The Rose Between My Pages
by ThatOCLady
Summary: REVAMPED, CHAPTER ORDER REARRANGED Spencer is taking a chance on love again. This time, it's with a botany professor who adores him. Sweet, funny, smart - is that all she is? It begins with one-shots mapping the progress of their relationship. Plot development happens Ch. 16 onwards. Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters, or make any profits thereof.
1. Friends

_"Love, to endure life's sorrow and earth's woe,_  
 _Needs friendship's solid masonwork below"_

 _\- Ella Wheeler_

* * *

If he had to choose one place to spend the rest of his life in, it would be this building. For food, there was the small cafeteria downstairs. There were lavatories for other purposes. The windows were wide, airy and provided a great view of the city. He could sleep on one of the couches in the kids' lounge. And he would have the best of company - books.  
Unwanted humming, coming from somewhere behind him. He had thought he was alone in that section.  
Whatever. He got back to his search.  
Now the humming had transformed into whistling. Spencer turned around to investigate. He stepped past the bookshelf behind him.  
A woman.  
She stopped whistling on seeing him.  
"Hi", she smiled.  
"Hi", he said.  
She didn't have to be told.  
"Sorry, I thought I was alone here"  
"It's okay"  
Noting how absurd her canary yellow jumper looked among the dark tones of the library, he got back to his shelf. Soon after, he found what he was looking for and left.

'Blake, Blake, Blake'  
There wasn't enough time. Spencer grabbed two of his anthologies and one biography. He walked to the reading room on the first floor, only to find it already overcrowded. The one upstairs in References was almost always empty. He climbed two flights of stairs to get to it.  
Alas, this one was even busier than the other.  
'Finals season'  
Spencer looked around, hoping to spot an empty seat. He walked along the length of the common table. The section supervisor's table was at the end of the room. Maybe Mrs. Jackson would let him sit there for a while.  
Damn it. Someone was sitting there too.  
Wait a second.  
That was the whistler from Greek Literature. She was sitting at the table in Mrs. Jackson's chair.  
He saw the lady in question approach her with a book.  
"Thank you so much", the whistler said to her.  
Mrs. Jackson smiled at her and left. Spencer approached the table.  
"Excuse me. Do you mind if I sit here?"  
The woman gave a small smile.  
"Not at all"  
"Thanks"  
"Let me make some space for you"  
She began to arrange the thick volumes on the table. Pulling them to one side, she made ample space for his books.  
"Thank you"  
'Natural History' - she had on the table same titles from two different authors. Spencer took a seat and focused his attention on his own books.

Two books in. One to go. The biography gave him some idea about William Blake as a person and artist. His poems mostly held religious significance. Maybe he should take a look at his paintings to understand the...  
"You're Dr. Reid, right?"  
The woman had spoken. She was observing him.  
"Yes"  
"I'm Monica", she said, "I didn't want to disturb you while you were reading. Brenda told me about you. I got a little jealous when she said you could read 20,000 words per minute. I practice speed reading sometimes but the best I can do is a thousand, without skimming"  
He took that Brenda was none other than Mrs. Jackson.  
"It took some practice", he tried to sound modest.  
"You make it look so easy though", she smiled, "I have never seen anyone read that fast"  
He shrugged. She said, looking at his books,  
"Tyger, tyger. You a fan of Blake?"  
"No, this is research"  
"You teach literature?"  
"No. It's for work. Are you a fan?"  
"Not really. But I read a lot of poetry. However, Blake isn't my cup of tea. I consider him the patron artist of fictional serial killers"  
Spencer waited for an explanation. She said,  
"You know, _Red Dragon_. Red John from _The Mentalist_. And my favourite - Agatha Christie's _Endless Night_ "  
In an instant, he recalled the UnSub's note at the crime scene -  
 _"Some are born to Endless Night"  
_ It was a line from a Blake poem, the very thing he was trying to interpret.  
"What do you think it means exactly?", he asked her, "Endless night"  
Her delight on being consulted was apparent. She said,  
"That's the beauty with all forms of art - you can interpret it whichever way you want to. To some, it could mean being born to a lifetime of misery. But like in Agatha Christie's book, it could mean being born with that uncontrollable desire to kill"  
The UnSub wasn't going to stop killing, that he knew. But maybe...  
" _Endless Night_ by Agatha Christie", he got up, "Excuse me"

Fifteen minutes later, Spencer finished reading the last page of the novel. He didn't have time to return the books to their shelves. The library forbade using cellphones. He ran out and called Emily.  
"The New England murders", Spencer said, "I think I know who the UnSub is"  
Emily called him into work. Spencer hung up and looked back at the library. He felt he should thank Monica for providing such a major clue.  
It would have to wait. He had a sociopath to catch.

* * *

The next time he saw Monica, Spencer remembered to thank her. She smiled at him. Now that he was paying attention, he found she had the kindest eyes he had ever seen. His tendency to get absorbed in research often made him overlook other things. Such as Monica's lovely smile and warm manner. She looked like the personification of the term "friend".  
"I'm glad I could help but I doubt I did anything other than mentioning the book"  
"Let's just say that saved lives"  
She raised her eyebrows, smiling still.  
"Then you're much welcome"  
There was a moment of silence between them before she glanced at the book in his hand.  
"The Handmaid's Tale", she said, "It's one of my favourites"  
"I am supposed to return it today"  
"What did you think of it?"  
"I think it's clever, though a bit too paranoid. Atwood combines all the different kinds of biases women have had to face over the ages..."  
"Still do face", she said.  
He smiled,  
"Yes. And she has used them to present a probable picture of the future. It's less of a warning, and more of an alternate universe story, which is rare for dystopian fiction"  
"You didn't like it?"  
"I did, but I'm not a fan of fiction"  
"That can't be true. Everyone likes fiction in one form or another"  
"I mean I do enjoy some TV shows and some light reading every now and then, but I don't spend much time on it"  
She nodded,  
"I get that. I don't get to read as much as I would like. So many books, so little time. I mean, for those of us who can't read 20k words per minute"  
"I saw you were reading Galen's Natural History the other day"  
"Oh, that's just for work. Botany is not as exciting as a murder mystery"  
"Agatha Christie?", he remembered.  
"Yep. And Sir Arthur Conan Doyle too. I used to be obsessed with Sherlock Holmes"  
He didn't want their conversation to end. Monica looked like she had a lot of interesting things to say.  
"Who do you think is a better detective - Holmes or Poirot?"  
"Neither. It's Miss Marple"  
Spencer grinned,  
"She's not even a detective"  
"But she's a much more talented investigator"  
"I disagree"  
"Oh yeah? Come with me. I'll prove it to you"  
She led him to the Literature section, singing praises of Miss Marple all the while.

Within the span of a few weeks, they became friends on goodreads. Monica commented on it,  
"Your 'read' shelf is not good for a bookworm's ego"  
"It's not a competition", he smiled.  
"I know but it makes me wish I was born a genius"  
"You seem pretty intelligent to me"  
She looked pleased.  
"Thank you. I appreciate that. Say Dr. Reid, do you like Halloween?"  
His voice had a sudden inflection.  
"I love Halloween"  
"Do you dress up?"  
"Every year"  
"Me too! Who are you going to be this year?"  
A corner of his mouth quirked up.  
"Sherlock Holmes"  
Monica grinned,  
"I can totally see it. You would make a great Dr. Who too. I don't think you would even need a separate costume for that"  
Spencer looked down at his clothes as she did. Monica rushed to explain,  
"I meant that as a compliment. I personally find this choice of clothes quite attractive. You look like a hot history professor"  
Hot? _Him?_  
Spencer nervously scratched his forearm and shoved his hands inside his pockets. Flattered, he tried to play the compliment off with a smile.  
"I have been the Doctor before", he asked, "What about you?"  
"I am going to have to be a decomposing corpse", she explained, "My sister-in-law loves Halloween too. They do a haunted house every year. I'm supposed to walk out of a tomb and scare the crap out of people. I even got a special move. You want to see it?"  
"Sure"  
Monica walked a few feet away from him. He was facing her back. In a second, bending backwards, she was on her hands and feet, and rapidly scurrying towards him like a spider.  
"Okay, okay!", he stepped back until she stopped, "Yeah, that should do it"  
Monica straightened up and turned towards him.  
"Was it creepy enough?"  
He laughed,  
"More than enough"  
"Yay", she smiled, "Hey, if you're free, you should come check it out"  
"Sorry, I might be working on Halloween"  
 _Thank goodness_ he would be working on Halloween. He did not want to see that weird spider-walk thing ever again.  
Stuff of nightmares.  
"Too bad. Anyway", Monica looked into her purse, "If you change your mind..."  
She held out a card to him. It said -

 _Dr. Monica Knight_  
 _B.A. (Hon.), M. Sc. (Hon.), Ph.D._  
 _Mary Washington University, Fredericksburg, VA_

"If you change your mind, give me a call on the number on the back. I'll send you the address"  
Instead of saying "thanks", his immediate response was of surprise.  
"You never mentioned having a doctorate"  
She shrugged.  
"It's no big deal. Anyway, I have to get going now. In case I don't see you until next week - happy Halloween", she smiled, "Take some pictures of yourself in costume for me, will you?"  
"Okay", he added, "You too. Bye"  
They waved at each other and she went away. Spencer mused about her thinking of him as a hot professor. He nearly bumped into a wall before realising he was supposed to go the other way.

* * *

Busy as he always was, Spencer didn't understand any soon how fond he had grown of Monica. She was the first one he called on finding a good book, a new Indian dish, or simply when he needed her opinion on literature. He was pleasantly surprised by her knowledge of most things - psychology, chemistry, sociology. He never had to explain to her the basics of what he was talking about. And when she was the one talking, he wished she would go on for hours.  
It was a friendship he had come to treasure, one not formed out of being forced into close quarters, but out of mutual respect and shared interests.  
"Look what I found", she held out the book towards him.  
They were sitting next to each other in the reading room. Spencer was hit with a fresh scent of shampoo as she leaned towards him. It made being close to her the more pleasant.  
"Why are you reading Lombroso?"  
She said,  
"You made it sound interesting"  
He smiled and looked back at his book.  
"That's the first time anyone's said that to me"  
The boy sitting across the table tried to shush them. Monica leaned in close to Spencer to avoid disturbing the others.  
"You serious?"  
"Yeah"  
"What kind of people do you surround yourself with?"  
"They are good people. They're just... not like us"  
"Their loss. We're awesome"  
He smiled again and kept leafing through the book. The guy from before hissed,  
"Do you lovebirds mind keeping it down?"  
Monica apologised to him,  
"Sorry"  
Spencer was distracted. He turned to regard Monica, as if he were looking at her for the first time.  
"Does he think we are a couple?"  
"Probably. Brenda and Mrs. Valdez think so too. I told them it wasn't like that but they wouldn't believe me"  
As if with an afterthought, she looked back at him.  
"Does that bother you?"  
"No. It..."  
It bothered him why he had not acted on his new feelings yet. Leisurely in the comfort her presence provided, he often forgot the excitement it brought too. But this was his window.  
"Have you been to Patiala Kitchen?"  
"No. What's that?", Monica asked.  
"It's an Indian restaurant a few blocks from here", he licked his lips, "Would you... like to have dinner there, after we are done here?"  
She said,  
"What, like a date?"  
"Yeah", he said cautiously, "A date"  
It eased all of his trepidation to see her giddy smile. Monica nodded,  
"Yes. Yes, I would love that"  
"Great"  
They kept looking at each other, smiling, feeling like they had come up with the best idea ever.  
The guy across from them exclaimed,  
"Jesus Christ, get a room already"


	2. Dates

_"Do you have to have a reason for loving?"_

 _\- Brigitte Bardot_

* * *

 _Date #1_

On their first date, Monica and Spencer were discussing superlatives. She finished laughing at something he said.  
"Okay, worst date", she recalled, "Three months ago, at the Italian bistro in Quantico. Guy was a zoologist from Richmond. Mid-dinner, he starts telling me about the mating habits of amphibians"  
Spencer almost spat out his buttermilk. He laughed.  
"Even I know that's not a date topic"  
"I'm serious. He actually thought it might get me in the mood", she chuckled.  
"Did it?"  
Monica smirked at him.  
"You know I only get in the mood by discussing deviant psychology, Doctor"  
Smiling at her flirtation, he returned his attention to his plate of food. Monica said,  
"Your Ph.D. was in Psychology, right?"  
"No. Chemistry. Mathematics. And Engineering"  
Her eyebrows rose,  
"You have three PhDs?"  
He nodded.  
"My oh my", she said, "I am finally on a date with a certified genius"  
"You don't usually date men like me?"  
"I didn't even know men like you existed. Thoughtful, funny, intelligent, handsome", she added with a smile, "You are... something, you know"  
His voice was softer than before.  
"Thanks. You are... quite something too"  
Monica took a moment to speak again.  
"To be honest, if you hadn't asked me for dinner, I was going to ask you. I didn't know how you would respond though"  
"I would have said yes"  
She smiled again. There was another pause before she said,  
"We have known each other for almost four months, but I don't even know yet what you do for a living"  
"I'm an FBI profiler"  
"Really?", Monica said, "You don't have that typical lawman swagger when you walk"  
"I guess"  
"Why FBI? I mean, you certainly had the resumé for a career in academia"  
"I guess I just wanted to make a difference? Behavioural Analysis really appealed to me. A friend and I showed up for training together, but he quit after Day 1. I wanted it bad enough to stay"  
Monica smiled,  
"Your parents must be pretty proud of you"  
"My Mom. She is", he smiled.  
"What's she like?"  
He glanced at her. No inquisitiveness, just a general curiosity. And it wasn't like he was ashamed of his mother.  
"She used to be a 15th century literature professor. Strong, smart, brave. But she suffers from schizophrenia. Some days it's... bad. But most days it's okay"  
"I'm sorry"  
"That's all right"  
Monica told him after a while,  
"My best friend is bipolar, and she suffers from manic depression. She lives in a facility in New York. I try to visit but... it's hard to see someone you love being reduced to just a small part of their whole identity. Sorry, I'm probably making you uncomfortable by talking about all this"  
"No, it's fine. Your friend", he asked, "How old is she?"  
"33", Monica smiled wistfully, "She has a little girl, Veronica. I'm her godmother. Veronica's father remarried and they moved to Seattle. It's one of the reasons I can't bring myself to visit Nicole as much as I would like. She keeps asking to see her daughter"  
"Sorry about your friend"  
Monica shook her head. She sighed and looked around for a waiter.  
"Fancy some dessert, Dr. Reid? I could go for a bowl of cold _phirni_ right now. You ever tried _phirni_?"  
"I haven't"  
"Mm", she said, "Best Indian dessert ever. You have to try it"  
She called for the waiter's attention and ordered dessert. Spencer sat watching her, thinking about deflective techniques.

* * *

 _Date #2_

As with almost all dwellings, Monica's house was a reflection on her personality. Bright, airy, minimalist, and so comfortable it made you want to take your shoes off. Spencer resisted the urge and walked to one of her bookshelves. They were all neatly organised by genre and alphabetical order. She seemed to have a penchant for home-made labels. Hearing her come in from the kitchen, Spencer turned to the door. Monica hid something round and large under her shirt. She rubbed it like a belly.  
"It's yours"  
He watched her with a smile as she pulled out the watermelon and held it up.  
"It's a girl!"  
She told him,  
"All right, I'm going to cut this baby up for dessert, put it in the fridge, and we can start"  
"Do you need some help with that?"  
"No, you're my guest. Just sit at the table and look sexy. That shouldn't be too hard for you", she winked and walked back in.  
Spencer smiled and returned to inspecting her bookshelves.

* * *

They had not been able to schedule another date soon. But their meetings in the library continued, became prolonged. Monica was wearing a garish red and green sweater on the day in question. For some reason, it reminded him of a Sexy Elf costume.  
"You won't be here for Christmas?", she asked.  
"I am going to take my Mom to see her brother and his family. It's been a while"  
"In Vegas?"  
"Yeah. What about you?"  
"I didn't have any plans really"  
"You're not visiting family?", he asked.  
"Most of them live nearby. We see each other all the time", she said, "Anyway, since you're not going to be here, maybe I should give you your Christmas present before you leave"  
He was touched.  
"You got me a present?"  
"Yeah. I have actually been carrying it around to get Brenda's opinion on it, but I haven't seen her today. It's not gift-wrapped. Sorry about that"  
She laid her bag on the library floor and pulled out two bundles of woollen fabric. Spencer looked thrilled.  
"What's this?", he smiled.  
Monica unfolded a pair of mismatched socks. One was blue, like the TARDIS, and the other grey. He loved it.  
"Monica..."  
She grinned,  
"You like it?"  
"I do", he took it, "This is... I'm speechless. Thank you"  
"I needed some help with the socks to get the sizes equal", she held up the maroon scarf, "But this I knit all by myself"  
Soft and fluffy, he couldn't stop himself from feeling the fabric of the scarf. Monica said,  
"It's for your Mom"  
Spencer looked up at her, stunned. She explained with a smile.  
"I don't really know her but from what you have told me, she sounds great. And I may not have met her but, she made you. So this is actually more a sign of my gratitude than just a Christmas present"  
Holding the scarf tight in his clasp, he looked from her to it. When he had asked her out, he hadn't prepared himself for such intense affection. Now that he was receiving it, feeling it rising in his own heart, he wondered how could he repay her.  
"Th-thank you", he said, "She is going to love it, I'm sure"  
"Do you think she will be weirded out, that a stranger knit a scarf for her? I don't want her to think I'm creepy", she laughed.  
"No. I'll tell her it's from my girlfriend"  
One of his major foot-in-mouth moments. Spencer hurried to make repairs.  
"I mean... sorry, it's..."  
"No, no, no", Monica touched his hands, "I would like that. Very much"  
He looked at their hands. Her slender fingers were folded over his.  
Monica was looking up at him.  
"I am _crazy_ about you, Dr. Reid. You're the sweetest, smartest, most interesting person I know. I have only been controlling my usual... 'amorous' instincts because I don't want to make you uncomfortable. Yet you're pretty much all I think about lately"  
He confessed,  
"I think a lot about you too"  
Monica gave him a smile that tugged at his heartstrings. She said,  
"You think about this too?"  
Tender as petals, her fingertips grazed his cheek. They were preparing him for the kiss that followed.  
Spencer was aware of every sensation that passed between them. Her softness, her sweet scent, her warm breath, and the way his hands itched to touch her. He laid aside the strand of dark hair on her cheek, surrendering to how the kiss made him feel. It was a conversation without words. The best he had ever had.  
Monica's face was warm against his hand as she withdrew. In her eyes, he saw his own gaping reflection.  
"Merry Christmas", she smiled.


	3. Voices

_"Clearly, being in love makes you an idiot"_

 _\- Samantha Chase_

* * *

His car had been sent for repairs. Why he used that heap of junk still, she didn't know. But she had offered to drive him to work. True to her word, JJ showed up at Reid's apartment. She was a little early, but she knew he would be ready, punctual as he always was.

Just when JJ raised her hand to ring his doorbell, she heard noises coming from within. One was definitely her best friend's.  
"Stop it! No! _Nooo!_ "  
Full Agent mode on, JJ took her gun out of the holster and listened again. Reid was shouting. He was in danger.  
Screaming _**"FBI!"**_ at the top of her lungs, JJ kicked the door open. Two faces, white with shock, looked her way. One was her co-worker's and the other of a dark-haired woman.  
 _'What in the...'_  
JJ lowered her gun on making out the position they were in. The woman was straddling Spencer, whose shirt had come un-tucked. She had him pinned down to the floor.  
 _'Tickle fight. Seriously?'_  
Spencer got up in such a hurry the woman fell off him. He explained,  
"JJ, this is Dr. Monica Knight. She's uh... she's..."  
Monica took up the reigns. She adjusted her own clothes and walked to Jennifer.  
"Hi. Dr. Reid has told me so much about you. But he didn't prepare me for just how beautiful you are", Monica extended a hand, "I'm Monica"  
A little flattered and a little taken aback, JJ shook her hand.  
"Pleasure. I'm Jennifer, as you know. And sorry about the door, Spence. I thought you were being... attacked"  
Spencer had tucked his shirt back into his pants. He cleared his throat.  
"Um, I forgot to tell Monica that you were driving me to work. She, uh, she came over to offer to drive me to... _anyway_ "  
The two women watched him fumble with and gather his bag and holster. Monica had her arms folded while JJ stepped out into the hallway. Dr. Reid only had to turn to Monica for her to say,  
"I'll stay over and get the door fixed. Don't worry"  
She looked at JJ as she said,  
"I have the day off today. So..."  
"Thanks", Spencer said.  
He glanced at JJ, who promptly looked away. She tried not to smile when her peripheral vision caught Monica kissing Spencer's cheek.  
"Bye", he mumbled.  
"Bye", Monica smiled, "It was nice meeting you, Jennifer"  
"You too", JJ smiled back.

The moment they were out of his building, JJ was grinning so wide her cheeks hurt.  
"Please, promise me you won't tell the others. Especially Garcia. JJ? JJ!"  
She clutched her stomach and began laughing.


	4. Cupcakes

" _All love that has not friendship for its base, is like a mansion built upon sand"_

 _– Ella Wheeler_

* * *

Garcia rolled her eyes,  
"Just tell us already!"  
Reid grew uncomfortable under the gaze of his friends. JJ observed the discussion from her desk.  
"What makes you think I have a girlfriend?", he retorted.  
Luke stepped up, and Reid knew it was to impress Penelope.  
"You have been late to work twice in the last two weeks. You use cologne now. Your eyes seem deprived of sleep, yet you look happy and fulfilled. There's..."  
Garcia interrupted him,  
"Uh, no, newbie. He's just been smiling at his phone too often. Doesn't take a genius to know why"  
Reid said, before the banter could advance,  
"Fine. I am seeing someone"  
"Ooh!", Garcia perched herself on his desk, "Details, please"  
Reid grinned a bit, brushing the hair off his forehead. He told them,  
"Her name's Monica"  
"Mm-hm"  
"We met at a library"  
"Gasp! Do I hear bookworm wedding bells?"  
JJ said in a warning tone,  
"Garcia"  
"Just joking", she said, "I'm curious about this hottie our Boy Wonder has managed to snag"  
"I didn't call her hot"  
Penelope winked at him,  
"But she is, amirite?"  
Reid tried evading,  
"If you mean whether she is conventionally attractive and..."  
"Spence", JJ grinned, "Just tell her"  
He gave in. He lowered his eyes and smiled.  
"She is more than that"

* * *

He was comparing autopsy reports on their latest case when his phone rang. He checked, found his favourite goofy smile on the phone screen. He had put that photo to her contact on purpose, to remind him of the warmth she inspired within him. Looking around, making sure he wouldn't be overheard, he answered.  
"Hi"  
"Hello, Dr. Reid. How goes your day?"  
He smiled,  
"Other than some gruesome stuff related to work, it's okay. How's yours?"  
"Mine's a bit better after hearing your sweet voice", she said, "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something. I want to take you to my favourite bakery in town. When are you available?"  
"I'm in Memphis right now"  
"When do you think you'll get back?"  
"I don't know for sure. I'll call you when I'm back. Is that okay?"  
"Yeah. Hey, do me a favour?"  
"Sure. Anything"  
"Look after my boyfriend for me. When he gets involved in a case, he forgets to take care of himself. Make sure he drinks plenty of water, less coffee and eats on time"  
He pressed a hand to his face, trying not to smile.  
"Will do"  
"Bye, Doc"  
"Bye"  
He hung up, breaking into an unrestrained smile at last.

* * *

It was a Saturday, and he was dressed his best. Monica made for a picturesque companion in her little sun-dress. She smelled great. And she truly seemed to find him...  
"Fascinating", she said.  
He said,  
"Well, it's no more a surprise when people mistake Bluebook to be a fairytale collection"  
At her laugh, he couldn't help but say,  
"This is the first time that someone has understood the reference"  
"Your references _are_ kinda hard to get. I found one of your research papers online the other day. It went right over my head. I mean, it was obviously well-researched and your hypothesis was proved in the end, but it was really technical. And more importantly", she turned to him, "That paper was published in 2010. The author is mentioned as Spencer Reid, Ph.D. When did you get your Ph.D.? In high school?"  
"Of course not", he explained, "I had all three by the time I was 24"  
"I'm not surprised. If anybody could have three Ph.D.s in their twenties, that would be you. But, if you were around 24, or say more, in 2010, how old are you now?"  
"I'm 37. You didn't know?"  
"It never came up, I guess. We usually don't talk much about each other, do we?"  
"We don't", he wondered why.  
"But seriously, I thought you were younger than me. You dress like an overgrown student from a private boys' school. You don't look 37"  
He shrugged, chuckling a little.  
"It's a genetic trait, I suppose. My mother doesn't show many significant signs of ageing either. In a dermatological sense, of course"  
Monica said,  
"Good for the Reids. My Mom looked fifty when she turned forty. It's a British thing, she says"  
"Your parents are British?"  
"My Mom is. I was about to mention her - you referenced her work in your paper I just told you about. The title was something like Criminal Components of OCD Behaviour? I'm not sure"  
Reid quickly scanned the contents and references of the paper in his mind. He stopped walking and turned to Monica.  
"Your mother is Dr. Victoria Fleming?"  
"Yep"  
"Her research on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is revolutionary. I have read all of her work"  
"Yeah. She's pretty badass", Monica smirked.  
Reid observed his companion for a moment. Those large doe eyes, that ever-present smile and the gentle, carefree manner. Did she bear any resemblance to one of the greatest minds in the field of psychology?  
"You don't look like a psychologist's daughter"  
She laughed,  
"What would that look like?"  
"I'm not sure. But mostly, children of successful parents resent them for it"  
"That may be true. But I love my parents. My Dad is just your regular, lovable American Dad. My Mom's a wonderful mother. She raised five kids, but gave none of us anything to complain about"  
"You have four siblings?"  
"Uh-huh", she looked at him for a long moment, "You're an only child"  
"Yeah", he smiled, "What was my tell?"  
"Just a guess. I'm not an expert profiler like you"  
"It's actually quite improbable for someone to be an "expert" at profiling"  
"Because profiling is such a volatile process? To be honest with you, I don't buy the whole profiling thing. More serial killers have been caught through mere coincidences - I mean yeah, the universe is rarely ever so lazy and yada yada but..."  
"Wait. You started watching _Sherlock_?"  
"Yeah", she gave a little laugh, "I wanted to hate it so bad. I believed nothing would ever do justice to the original but Cumberbatch won me over"  
She said after a beat,  
"As I was saying, most serial killers have been caught by chance alone. Profiling as a science has been widely discredited in the criminal psychology circle"  
She added hastily,  
"Sorry. No offense"  
"None taken", he shrugged, "I'm not saying profiling is a sure science but it's an important tool in my line of work. In fact, it's the most important one. We have caught so many serials on the basis of a good profile"  
"I'm sure that's true, but I'm just saying. You can't always predict criminal behaviour based on precedent"  
He observed,  
"For a botanist, you have some particular opinions regarding a sub-field in criminal psychology"  
"You know I only read about psychology for pleasure. I'm happy with my plants"  
They walked a few steps further, when he turned to her with a mischievous smile.  
"Hufflepuff"  
She grinned,  
"A _proud_ Hufflepuff. And what are you? A Ravenclaw? No, it would only seem so initially. You're definitely a Gryffindor"  
"How did you know?"  
She bumped his arm with her shoulder,  
"You're not the only one who knows stuff"  
"Of course not. I couldn't name all the plant phylum in that sing-song way you do"  
"Yeah?", she laughed and turned to him.  
With the sun beaming down upon them, he could see the colour of her eyes and the trees reflected in them. The tiny dimple on her cheek, the tan lines revealed by the neckline of her dress.  
Something in her manner, in her affectionate ways, made Reid blush. He liked her. And she seemed to like him back. That didn't happen too often with him. He didn't know how to respond.  
Monica hugged his waist, still looking up at him.  
"My friends tell me I'm like a quokka. I have no sense of personal space when I like someone"  
That was an admission. An outright declaration.  
Yet another thing he appreciated about her. She said what she meant. The world could take a page from her book on that, save him and countless others the task of interpreting social cues.  
When he kept staring at her face, she grinned.  
"I chose the perfect lighting so you would find me irresistible"  
"You are mistaken if you think I can resist you under bad lighting"  
She looked pleased but said,  
"If this is making you uncomfortable, you can tell me"  
"You have touched me before"  
"Not in a public place"  
"I don't mind"  
"Then kiss me, Dr. Reid"  
He tried to tease her by prolonging the moment before contact.  
"You know you can call me Spencer"  
"I prefer Dr. Reid. You earned that title with your three PhDs"  
He checked her face for signs of sarcasm. But she seemed incapable of it. There was a sweet smile on her sweet face. And she looked genuinely happy to be with him.  
He was suddenly very aware of her lips, and his own.  
"Where would you like to be kissed, Dr. Knight?"  
She seemed to catch her breath before saying,  
"Don't make me jump you in public"  
He grinned and met her eyes again. Resting his right hand on her waist, grazing her cheek with his left, Spencer brought his lips to hers. They met in a deliciously gentle rhythm. It was not the first time they had kissed, but it made his heart flutter just the same. Monica had begun to smile even before their lips parted. She gazed at him through hooded eyes, full of adoration. Reid dropped his hand from her face to her bare arm.  
"We have to get to the bakery", he gently reminded her.  
"Like I could deny you anything after that"  
He felt silly for smiling so often when with her, but that's what she did. Took his arm and took his worries, throwing the latter in an abyss far away from him.

"Here we are"  
Monica came to a halt before the bakery. She turned to him,  
"What would you like, Dr. Reid? In addition to the cinnamon rolls. You have to have those. The cinnamon rolls here are to die for"  
He stepped up next to her and gazed at the assortment of baked delicacies. She was already chatting away with the owner.  
"Who's your friend?", the owner asked her.  
"This is Dr. Reid. Dr. Reid, this is my good friend Paula of Paula's Little Bakehouse"  
"Hi"  
"Hello"  
They were amidst a waft of the sweet smell of baked goods. But he could still faintly smell Monica's perfume. It was something floral and fruity. A hint of...  
"Dr. Reid, what will it be?"  
He answered,  
"I'll have a cupcake, thanks"

* * *

The date had ended with another kiss at Monica's door. But it stayed with Reid throughout the weekend. He came into work on Monday morning and found JJ standing by his desk.  
"Morning", he greeted her with a smile.  
"Morning", she smirked, "Had a good weekend?"  
"Yeah. You?"  
"Not as good as yours, I think"  
He gave her a quizzical look, while putting his bag away. JJ looked around once before stepping to the side and revealing what was on his table.  
Reid almost stumbled over his feet to get to it. It was a little basket with two cupcakes and some cinnamon rolls.  
JJ explained,  
"I didn't read the note but I guessed who it might be from. I was guarding it till you got here. Couldn't let Penelope see it first and have her call you Mr. Monica again"  
He gave her a sheepish smile, tearing open the envelope,  
"You're a true friend"  
JJ left him alone with the note that filled his morning with joy.

 _'I would have sent you more cupcakes if you had given me more kisses._  
 _Next time though._  
 _Love,_  
 _Monica'_


	5. Games

_"Just close your eyes and fall. Fall backwards in your mind and tell me who you see catching you. Is it him?"_

 _\- Victoria L. James_

* * *

Monica threw her cards on the table.  
"You're such a cheat!"  
Spencer defended himself.  
"It's not cheating!"  
"You are a card-counter!"  
He was laughing.  
"I just used Math to improve my play. It's not cheating. You're just a sore loser"  
"Oh no", Monica observed him, "You're one of those people who are obsessed with winning, aren't you?"  
He reshuffled the deck, grinning,  
"I am not obsessed with winning. I just win, every time"  
"Oh yeah? Let's see you beat me at push-ups", Monica smirked.  
"You have a significant physical advantage over me. You work out everyday"  
"Like you don't have an advantage over me", she leaned forward and poked him on the forehead, "With that extra grey brain of yours?"  
"We could play something that has us both at a disadvantage"  
"Such as?"  
"What board games do you have?"  
"Hang on. Are we, a grown up couple, going to spend our Saturday afternoon playing board games?"  
He shrugged,  
"What else did you have in mind?"  
Monica raised an eyebrow, throwing him a meaningful look. Spencer glanced at her body, making eye contact again.

* * *

"Monica, this is crazy!", he complained.  
She taunted him, trotting in circles around him.  
"Well, you never lose, do you? So what are you worried about?"  
He tugged at his blindfold, which promptly earned him a rap on the hand by his girlfriend.  
"Ow!"  
"No peeking!"  
He frowned, reaching out with his hands.  
"You hit so hard"  
"Stop whining and catch me, champion. You have two minutes"  
"This is lame"  
Monica laughed and remained out of his reach. She would tap him from behind and watch him fumble about to catch her.  
"Monica", he groaned.  
"You still have one minute. Use your senses, Dr. Reid. Listen. Smell"  
He tried. The crunching of her lawn grass, somewhere left and front of him. He could feel the fresh air all over himself, except...  
Rapid scurrying.  
He turned and followed the sound, with arms outstretched. A smile curved his mouth.  
"I can hear you, Monica"  
She wouldn't call back to him anymore, which meant he was close. At the next hint of movement, Reid jumped forward. His hand was pressed into something soft, clothed. With his other hand, he grabbed hold of Monica's arm.  
"Gotcha", he took off his blindfold.  
Monica cleared her throat. Spencer looked and saw her standing still, with his hand cupping her left breast.  
"Having fun, are we, Doctor?"  
Colouring, retracting his hand and shoving it inside his pocket, Spencer fiddled with the blindfold. He scratched his head, ignoring Monica's mischievous smile.  
"Your turn?", he asked.


	6. Woes

_"I am alone, in spite of love,_  
 _In spite of all I take and give -_  
 _In spite of all your tenderness,_  
 _Sometimes I am not glad to live"_

 _\- Sara Teasdale_

* * *

"...was 30 years old! It makes me sick! Disgusted! Human beings are the worst!"  
Spencer rubbed his eyes and tried again,  
"Monica..."  
"...and I wish 2012 had happened! This planet needs a _**cleansing**_!"  
He sighed and listened. JJ stopped by his desk on her way home. She threw him a questioning glance. Spencer covered the receiver of his cellphone and said,  
"Monica saw the City Corporation people cut down a tree today. She got really upset and now she's drunk in a transsexual bar downtown"  
JJ smiled sympathetically and mouthed,  
"Good night"  
He gave her a nod and got back to the call. His girlfriend was raving on the other end.  
"I have half a mind to summon Satan right now and end this planet's misery. I could do it! I could do it, you know. I'll need virgin blood probably. Hey, what's your blood type?"  
"Monica, listen to me. Stop agonising over the tree and go home. Do you need me to come get you?"  
"I am a bigass girl, a'right? I can take care of myself. And I am crashing at the bar tonight. The toner - the owner, Stephanie, is a good friend of mine. You wanna talk to her?"  
"No, I don't want to talk to Steph... hello, Stephanie"  
The woman told him,  
"Monica's fine, don't worry. She and her sister Cat are like family. We'll take good care of her"  
"Thank you. Could I have your address and phone number just in case? I think I will pick her up when I get out of work"  
"Sure. It's..."  
Stephanie provided him with the address and her phone number. Monica was back on the line again.  
"I thought my days of worrying about the world were over", she complained, "I gave up my dream of being a social worker 'cause I wanted some peace of mind. But this! Why are people so hell-bent on their own destruction, Dr. Reid?"  
"Monica, that tree was probably infested with rats. It was an overgrowth. And it's just one tree..."  
"One tree, one gun, one size 2 needle", she continued in a British accent, "And one pound of _fleshhh_!"  
He spoke over her Thespian ramblings,  
"You're drunk out of your mind. How many drinks have you had?"  
"I am having some little cocktail thingy right now", she made a displeased noise, "It tastes like bathwater. Yo Stephanie! Who took a piss in my Fuzzy Navel?"  
"Monica? Monica, you need to drink some coffee and go to bed. I'll come pick you up in the morning, okay?"  
"But I'm supposed to be in Belfast tomorrow"  
"Sure you are. I'll call you in the morning. Please be safe?"  
"I'm always safe. I'm the safest hussie in all of North America"  
"Great. Can you put Stephanie on?"  
"Wokay. Hanga... hang on a sec... Steph, my lover wants to talk"  
"Yeah", Stephanie came on.  
"How many drinks has she had?"  
"About eleven, I think. Don't worry. I'm cutting her off"  
"Thank you. I'm sorry to bother you. But I'll come and get her first thing in the morning"  
"No problem. Here, she wants to talk to you"  
Monica said,  
"I am fine, yanno. Stephanie just cut me off. Valerie is making me some coffee right now"  
"Good. Listen to Stephanie. I have to go now. I'll see you in the morning"  
"Okay!"  
"Good night, Monica"  
"Good night, my handsome Spence-boo! Ave Satanas!"  
Smiling and shaking his head, Spencer hung up and got back to work.


	7. Photographs

_"In the embrace where madness melts in bliss,  
and in the convulsive rapture of a kiss,  
Thus doth love speak" _

_– Ella Wheeler_

* * *

As much as Reid enjoyed their conversations, he enjoyed their silences too. Monica wasn't one of those people who got uncomfortable when there was no talking.  
She was working away in her garden on a Saturday morning, while Reid watched her closely. Her lawn was as green as it could be. Including the area of the house, the property was large enough to measure almost half an acre.  
"Do all botanists love gardening?", he broke the silence.  
Monica answered him, without looking up,  
"This one does. To be honest with you, lately I don't care for botany much. I just want to plant trees wherever I can. Resurrect a forest maybe. I don't even know what I'll do if they offer me a permanent position at the university"  
"Will you be able to afford the house without a job?"  
"This one? It's mine, fully paid for. I bought it just last year. It was available for half its price because of some haunting or such, and the actual rooms in the house being quite small. But", she rose, "I bought it for the yard, not for its interior. Do you see that patch over there? I'm going to plant a wisteria on it. I have always wanted one. It won't take to this soil readily, but I don't mind a challenge"  
It seemed to him what she really wanted was her own private forest. But he said nothing.  
"Shall we go in?", Monica took off her hat.  
Her green eyes looked like crystals sometimes. The red spots on her cheeks from working in the sun reminded her of the term "sun-kissed". For the love of god, he didn't know why, he found Monica mercilessly attractive when she was under the sun.  
But he said nothing about that either. He followed her into the house instead.

After lunch, they sat on the couch watching a soap opera she hated. Reid shared some factoids about the inaccuracies in the show every now and then. As long as her head was on his shoulder and his arm was around her, Monica didn't seem to mind his chatter.  
She asked him during the commercial,  
"Did you bring the photos I asked you to?"  
"Yeah. They are in my bag. Will you tell me why you want them?"  
"Nope. But thanks. I'll make some copies and give 'em back to you soon"

* * *

Reid thought nothing of the whole photograph thing until Monica was at his place for dinner one night. He didn't like having her over at first when his mother was there. She had been doing better, but she still didn't take to strangers. Yet Monica insisted on meeting Diana whenever she could. With an amount of patience he could only marvel at, within three months, Monica had worn down Professor Reid and befriended her.  
"Jennifer, why did you color your hair?"  
They had just finished dinner when his mother confused Monica to be JJ. But Monica was patient as ever.  
"I'm Monica, Professor Reid. I look like Jennifer a bit but I'm not", she said.  
There was not even the slightest resemblance between the two, but Reid trusted Monica to know what she was doing.  
"Yes. Monica. Monica, yes", Diana smiled, "Spencer's girlfriend. Of course, I remember you. Forgive me. I am not good with faces these days"  
Monica smiled good-naturedly and brought out something from her bag. It was a photo album, or a scrapbook.  
"I made this for you", she handed the book to Diana.  
Reid looked questioningly at Monica but her attention was on his mother.  
"It's to help you remember who's who. Everyone in your life - the staff at your place, your friends, Spencer's friends - they are all in here. Whenever you can't recall someone's name, you can refer to this. I have also put in some interesting facts about everyone that you can surprise them with"  
With bated breath, Monica and Reid half expected her to throw the book against the wall and tell them off. But Diana seemed grateful for it. She kept leafing through the pages.  
"How thoughtful of you, dear. Thank you. Oh look, here's Jennifer! She has two boys?"  
They stood up when Diana did, clutching the book to her chest. She patted Monica's cheek,  
"This was so nice of you. I am going to put it somewhere safe, so I don't misplace it. I will... such a nice present"  
Diana left for her room.

Spencer felt full. Like he was about to burst at the seams with whatever pleasant feeling was flooding his heart. And it was likely that the explosion would be directed at Monica.  
There she stood, with her satisfied smile and her lovely face. He had seen the scrapbook. It must have taken her days to make it.  
Why in the world did she go out of her way to make his life richer and happier, he couldn't fathom.  
He was in utter awe of her.  
"I'm so relieved she liked it", she said with a big smile.  
When he tried to move, he feared that thing within him would spill. But he had to.

Closing the distance between himself and Monica, Spencer stood in front of her until their feet were touching.  
Daring enough, he kissed her on the cheek. Her skin smelled like tuberose and coconut. And for the first time in their relationship, she was the one who looked vulnerable.  
"Thank you", he whispered.  
Her eyes were fixated on his lips. Reid could feel her sweet breath on him. It was all a bit overwhelming, especially the unknown desire he felt all of a sudden.  
"It was nothing", she said softly.  
Spencer reached forth a little. Just enough for their lips to graze each other. It wasn't even a kiss but he wanted to do it again.  
And he did.

His mouth caught her surprised gasp with an intensity he rarely displayed. Spencer kissed her and held her like she would slip through his embrace. He wouldn't let that happen. Not her.  
Oh god please, not her.  
The sudden ferocity of his caresses was such that Monica was driven against the couch and almost fell down. He withdrew long enough to say,  
"Sorry"  
"It's oka-"  
He kissed her again, held her so tight her back arched. He felt possessed. Not by a spirit, but by a surging desire to have her close, so close they would become one.  
"Spencer? Have you seen my glasses?", his mother called.  
Feeling like something was being torn out of him, he let go off Monica. They panted for breath together. He took one glance at her lips that he had reddened, and excused himself. He wouldn't realise until much later what he had just felt with such force.

Love.  
It was the beginning of love.


	8. Scars

" _She touches my cheek, and I quiver –_

 _I tremble with exquisite pains;_

 _She sighs – like an overcharged river_

 _My blood rushes on through my veins"_

 _\- Ella Wheeler_

* * *

They were wrapping up the week's work. Nearly everybody was hunched over their desks, finishing paperwork. Reid, on the other hand, had finished his with turbo speed. He packed up his desk for the weekend and slung his bag across his shoulders.  
"See you on Monday, everyone", he announced before leaving the office.  
His phone began to ring. Shaking his head, he answered it.  
"Monica, I'm on my way. You can stop worrying"  
"I'm not worried. I'm just excited. Aren't you?"  
"Of course I am"  
"Good. Get your butt here within the next hour. I want to capitalise on my hard-earned weekend with you"  
"Like I said, I'm on my way", he smiled.  
"You better hurry"  
He laughed,  
"Get off the phone and I will"  
She did an impression,  
"No, _you_ hang up"  
"Monica..."  
"I'm just teasing ya! Now get over here already. I'm waiting for you. Bye"  
"See you soon"  
He hung up and pulled his car door open.

Six months of dating, texting each other a hundred times a day, the midnight calls, having the deepest and weirdest conversations, hugs and kisses - it had finally brought them to what Reid considered a milestone.  
Spending the weekend together.  
He glanced at the overnight bag in the seat next to his. He had packed it before coming into work that morning. Monica was way too excited about him staying over. He found it endearing. But it did little to mitigate his anxiety regarding what was expected of him that weekend.  
Sex. Obviously.  
They had been together long enough for that to happen. When he had accepted her offer of staying overnight, she had produced the following sound -  
 _"Hwo"_  
It was fair that she would expect physical "activity" from him while they were going to share a bed for two nights.  
 _'Relax. It's no big deal. It's just Monica. You love being with Monica'_  
His grip tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles almost turned white.  
It wasn't the act itself that made him nervous. Hell, he hadn't even bothered to think about the germs that might be involved. Somehow, Monica and germs seemed completely separate from each other. What scared him was the prospect of not making her happy.  
She had come to mean so much to him. It wasn't just the things she did for him.  
Finding him just the kind of books he loved.  
Making Christmas presents by her own hand for him and his Mom.  
Crying when he had told her about Maeve.  
Writing him love letters.  
Planting a Wisteria in her yard and naming it Wisteria Reid.  
He smiled at the memory.  
No, it wasn't just what she did for him. It was how she made him feel.  
Strong. Stronger than he had ever felt.  
Braver. Brave enough to take on the world.  
And above all - happy.  
How could he have said no to spending the weekend in her arms? She was the woman who had awakened him to his feelings again.

When he parked in her driveway, he immediately heard the sound of her door being thrown open. He had to put his bags on the ground to catch her from colliding into him full speed.  
"You're here!", she exclaimed.  
She had climbed his waist in a second, coiling her legs around him and throwing her arms round his neck. Planting a big smooch on his mouth, Monica drew back a little to breathe. She giggled.  
"Sorry! I just..."  
"It's okay", he couldn't help smiling too.  
"I just...", she tried to explain, "I haven't seen you in two weeks. I... I missed you"  
He admitted,  
"I missed you too"  
She smiled at that and kissed him again.  
"Let's go inside"  
Letting go off him, she carried his overnight bag to the house, despite of his protests.

* * *

All through Friday evening, they talked of the time they had spent apart. Reid told her about the Boston Strangler copycat they had had to deal with. She told him about her students' reactions to her plant perception class. Dinner was sprinkled more with conversation than with salt.

"Here. These are for you", she handed him the rubber gloves.  
Spencer joked as he put them on,  
"So you planned to make me wash dishes all along"  
" _Noo_ ", she began soaping up a dish, "I knew you wouldn't let me do it alone. And I know you are a germophobe. So I got you the gloves"  
"How thoughtful"  
She snickered to herself.  
"What?", he asked.  
"The first time I tried to kiss you, you looked like I was gonna give you cooties"  
"I did not!"  
"You so did!", she grinned.  
A pleasant silence fell over them. Reid glanced at her through the corners of his eyes. She looked radiant that night. Her top was slightly off one shoulder, exposing the tiny mole on her collarbone. It made him wonder if he would be seeing any more of such secret beauty spots by the end of the night.  
"Monica?"  
"Yes?"  
"Where am I going to sleep tonight?"  
"In my bed. Or do you wanna sleep by yourself? Then you take the bed, I'll take the couch"  
"Before we... _do_ anything, I wanted you to know something"  
That made her look up. Reid went on resolutely,  
"It's too soon to discuss this and you most likely haven't even thought about it yet, but... I have decided never to have biological children of my own. My genes carry the threat of Alzheimer's and schizophrenia. I don't want to pass that on. So... if... if we ever get to the point where we consider having children, they are going to have to be adopted"  
When she was sure he had finished talking, Monica began.  
"There was this one time you were telling me about Jennifer's son, Henry. And a thought passed through my mind", she smiled coyly, "That if we ever had a son, I'd want him to be named Spencer Jr"  
His hands stopped moving. Monica went on cleaning and smiling as she spoke,  
"So you're wrong. I _have_ thought about it. But I understand why you don't want to have kids. If you're wondering whether that affects my relationship with you, it doesn't. And if you're implying that you don't want to have a physical relationship with me..."  
"No", he said too quickly, "No, that's... that's not what I meant"  
She looked up at him with a grin. He had to look away to compose himself.  
"Hey..."  
The way she said it, it felt like her hand was resting on his soul.  
"...I want you more than you can imagine. But if you say stop, we stop"  
He managed to say,  
"Thank you. Same goes for you"  
She whispered with her lips against his ear,  
"And if you say "Don't stop", you can bet your sweet ass I won't"  
He managed to keep a straight face despite of the tingling sensation along his neck.  
Her seductive whisper implied what she intended to do with him tonight. The very thought of it turned his ears red. To his relief, Monica soon changed the topic.  
"Okay, we're done here. Do you know where you want to sleep?"  
His voice was low, but sure,  
"With you"  
That got her attention. He watched the clockwork of thoughts in her mind stop for a full moment, before it got a hold of itself again.  
"Awesome. I'll go make the bed"  
Spencer watched her leave the kitchen.

* * *

He was already in his under-shirt and shorts, debating whether to remove his socks in her home or not. He ultimately decided against keeping them on. By the time he heard the shower in her bathroom turn off, he had put away his things and was walking to her bed. The door opened and in a cloud of steam, Monica stepped out. She was wearing a night dress that could only be called a negligee. It was tailored to showcase her physical "assets". Assets he found himself staring at.  
Monica applied lotion to her hands. She smiled at him,  
"You comfortable?"  
"Yeah"  
She climbed into bed next to him and he got goosebumps. With her arms and shoulders bare (except for the flimsy straps), her chest largely visible, and the fresh smell emanating from her skin - Reid was almost in sensory overload.  
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she smiled at him,  
"Hi"  
"Hi", he croaked.  
When her arms went around his neck, he released a long breath. Monica wasted no time. She placed kisses along his jawline, right up to his ear. He tentatively put his hands on her waist. He slipped off the strap from her shoulder, wanting to find that mole he had seen before. It was right on her collarbone. Before he could graze it with his thumb, Monica made him gasp. She drew back, biting her lip.  
"Too much?", she asked.  
Reid rubbed his neck where she had nibbled on it. He shook his head "no".  
"You know you can tell me, right?"  
"Yeah"  
Monica traced the round collar of his shirt.  
"Can I take this off?"  
"O-okay"  
Surprising him, she sat back down on her knees. She didn't sound offended.  
"You're still so tense, Dr. Reid. What can I do to help with that?", she answered her own question, "Wait. I know what to do"  
Rising on her knees, Monica pulled her nightdress off. Reid gaped in shock.  
And admiration.  
"Your shirt and shorts", she held out her hand for them.  
Though skeptical of whatever her plan was, Reid obeyed. Monica took both the clothing items and put them on her dresser. Then she cuddled up to him. They sat face to face on her bed.  
"We don't have to have sex tonight. Let's just get used to each other being... like this", she smiled.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yeah", she trailed her fingers across his chest, and kissed his nose.

Maybe he needed to learn to trust her more. It had only been an hour since they had stripped in bed, and he no longer felt self-conscious with her.  
"And this", Monica showed him the scar on her shoulder, "...is from when someone opened fire during a protest in college. The bullet ricocheted and hit me. It hurt like hell"  
Reid touched the scar,  
"What were you protesting?"  
"The murder of Jerome Johnson. He was a 14-year old kid, shot by the cops"  
He remembered reading about it.  
"They said the bicycle pump in his hands had looked like a rifle in the dark"  
"I don't wanna talk about it"  
"Sorry"  
"It's okay", she traced the scar on his thigh, "What's this from?"  
He looked down at it.  
"From when I stabbed myself in prison"  
"To get away from Shaw?"  
"Yeah"  
He was touched that she remembered. Caressing the mole on her waist with the same affection, he said,  
"You have four of these in different places"  
She shuddered a little and took his hand off her waist.  
"I'm ticklish there", she told him, "And it's actually five"  
He recounted - waist, collarbone, wrist, ankle. His memory never deceived him, especially not when he had just seen them.  
"It's four", he told her.  
She gave him a demure smile.  
"That you can see"  
"Where's the fifth one?"  
Sitting on her knees again, Monica reached behind her back. She undid the clasp and off came her bra.  
It was in that moment Reid understood just how nudity could be classified as "beautiful".  
Monica took his hand and placed it on her hidden mole.  
"You can feel my heartbeat when you touch it"  
Indeed, he could. Hers under his fingertips, and his own in his ears.  
"Dr. Reid?"  
Embarrassed, he looked away. He mumbled,  
"Sorry. I didn't mean to stare"  
"I was hoping you would"  
When he showed no signs of unfreezing, she gathered the sheets over herself and lay down on the bed. Spencer followed suit. Monica touched his cheek,  
"Have I made you uncomfortable?"  
"No one cares about my comfort as much as you do"  
She brightened up on hearing that. Her index finger wrote her name on his shoulder.  
"They are fools then"  
"Monica?"  
"Hm?"  
"Can we have sex?"  
Catching her off-guard, he watched the sentient smile transform into a blush on her cheeks. His hand came to rest on her hip under the sheets, _persuading_ her. Monica shivered again when he glided his knuckles along her waist. Her answer was merely an audible breath,  
"Yes"  
And the hand on her waist pulled her close.


	9. Bras

_"If we were in a room full of art, I would stare at her"_

 _\- Kia Amazona_

* * *

The CSU team moved away to photograph entrance points on the scene. Spencer Reid knelt by the corpse and observed it.  
From behind him, Luke said,  
"This guy's MO is as common as they come. Middle-aged women, strangled in their own homes. The body is on the floor in a random position. There's no way for us to distinguish these from a regular home invasion killing"  
"Actually, there is", Reid pointed, "That's a large bra for a woman of her proportions. It's heavily padded and quite fancy for our victim. She had just come home from a run. If anything, she must have worn a sports bra. And those do not look like this"  
Reid stood up and spoke in a grave tone.  
"He's dressing them"  
Luke said so only they could hear,  
"You know a lot about bras"  
Clearing his throat, Reid stepped away.  
"Excuse me"  
He walked over to another corner of the room, keeping his face turned away from Luke.

* * *

 _Last weekend -_

Lying in her bed next to her, Spencer tried to get his breathing back. He wasn't a fan of exercise, but he sure didn't mind some post-orgasm exhaustion. Monica too lay panting against him. The breeze from her yard provided some much needed coolness. The heat between them the past forty-five minutes had been ecstatic.  
"I read one of your papers yesterday", he gasped.  
"Did you now?"  
"Yeah. It was quite informative"  
"Thank you. Which one are you referring to exactly?"  
"The Influence of Abiotic Elements on _Azadirachta Indica_ \- An Observation"  
"Oh. I wrote that one when I was traveling in South Asia"  
"The tone of the paper was quite formulaic, not much like you. It certainly piqued my curiosity about how you are as a professor. Do you follow the lecture method?"  
"Not entirely", she got up, "Would you like a demonstration?"  
"Sure"  
He sat up too, excited to witness Monica in her role as a teacher. She stood by the bed and pulled on her clothes. Mischief shone through her grin.  
"Get ready for Sex 102: How to Unhook a Bra"  
Sitting up straighter in bed, he defended himself.  
"Your bras are extremely complicated"  
"They are not! You just need a basic lesson. It's nothing to be embarrassed about", she winked at him, "I'll teach you"  
"Is this about that day when I was looking for the hook on your sports bra?"  
Monica turned her back to him. He could see her shoulders bounce and hear the mirth in her voice.  
"No"  
Spencer was grinning,  
"You're laughing at me!"  
She turned around to him, red in the face, the corners of her mouth upturned.  
"I'm sorry! It's just so cute that a genius like you can't figure out a bra", she started laughing again.  
"My genius doesn't have to extend to women's underwear"  
"But now it will", she composed herself, "Because, I'm going to model my bras for you. I will also teach you how to get them off me"  
Before he could finish saying "Monica", she had thrown open her closet. He couldn't help peeking in and getting a glimpse. It was well-organised, looked like it was sorted by colour too. Monica pulled out her underwear drawer.  
"How many bras do you have?"  
"Nine. But don't worry. I'm just going to show you three to four major types"  
He watched as she pulled off her top and put on a bra. To his dismay, she had her back to him. But then, wearing her little green skirt and a skin coloured bra, Monica catwalked to the bed. She struck a pose and told him.  
"This is my regular, lightly padded, size 36 bra. The black one I was wearing earlier is a variant of this"  
She walked and perched herself next to him on the edge of the bed. Her back was to him as she pulled her hair over one shoulder and demonstrated. Monica arched her back.  
"This is how you unhook it. You take the end of the hook strap above, tug it forward, then release it. Simple, right?", she hooked it again, "Now you try it"  
Spencer leaned forward, eager to learn, and followed her instructions. The bra was unhooked in an instant.  
"This is so simple", he remarked.  
"Told you"  
Monica got off the bed and turned to him. Her hand was holding the bra to her chest.  
"Now the next one", she said.  
She went to the closet and, with her back to him again, put on a different bra.  
She walked to him again, one hand on her hip, and posed.  
"This is a tube bra. Like the sports bra, it has no hooks. You can just pull it off like a tshirt"  
Raising her arms, she took the bra off. Reid's mouth hung open. Her back wasn't to him anymore. Though he had seen her breasts before, they still had their usual effect on him. He adjusted the sheets over his lower half.

Monica turned and walked to the closet again. He had regained control of his jaw by the time she returned.  
"This here, Dr. Reid, is one of my fancy bras"  
The array of straps across her shoulders proved so.  
"It's heavily padded. As you can see, it's crimson in colour. I call it my date bra 'cause when I wear it on our dates, you can't stop sneaking peeks at my chest"  
"What do you take me for?"  
"A red-blooded, heterosexual man", she turned, "And it's unhooked just like my regular bras. You can just slip the straps off my shoulders like this. Got it?"  
"Yep"  
Monica walked to the closet again and put another bra on. When she turned around, her cleavage could have been made from a mile away. Spencer watched transfixed as she walked to him.  
"And this is my strapless, push-up bra. It's also known as a balcony bra because...", she motioned to her cleavage, "You get the gist"  
He was nodding when Monica walked to him and climbed upon his lap. She smiled at him.  
"Now take it off"  
Spencer put his hands behind her back and tried. Monica chuckled.  
"You're not defusing a bomb. Relax. It works just like a regular bra"  
He succeeded in unhooking it. His fingers grazed the hard lining on it as he took it off.  
"What's this under the..."  
"Cups", she finished for him, "It's the underwire. It helps the bra retain shape and creates cleavage"  
"I see"  
"Do you _like_ what you see?", she put her arms around his neck.  
Spencer gingerly touched her left breast.  
"Yeah", he murmured.  
Monica leaned against his palm, making him catch his breath. There was one of those smiles on her face as she eyed him like a cat.  
"You", he said, "Um, you're a good teacher"  
"Well, I don't usually teach my students to unhook my bra. Botany is a little more complex"  
He gave a laugh, meeting her eyes.  
"I do feel... educated"  
"Is that so?"  
"Yeah"  
"I'm glad I could be of service"  
He glided his hand along her back. Monica pulled him down so his head was on the pillow. Spencer spoke between kisses,  
"Do you... have... class... evaluation forms?"  
She giggled against his mouth and let him topple her. They spent a better part of the night making love, with smiles on their faces.


	10. Birthdays

_"Oh I have sown my love so wide  
That he will find it everywhere;  
It will awake him in the night,  
It will enfold him in the air"  
\- Sara Teasdale _

* * *

_October 28:_

They did it every single year. But it never ceased to make him feel loved. Spencer blew out the 38 candles on his cake.  
"Happy Birthday to you...", Penelope sang the loudest.  
He sat there among his friends, wishing his mother and Monica could have been there too.  
"Here's your cake, birthday boy", JJ handed it to him.  
He thanked her and the rest of them. They must have sensed he wasn't really in a celebratory mood. No one insisted that he stay. It was almost 1:00 AM anyway. Reid thanked them again and took his leave.

After he got home, there was a note and a present waiting on his night stand. The handwriting made him smile before he could even read the words.

 _'This isn't a sweet gesture. It's selfish. I want to be the last thing on your mind before you go to sleep. Happy Birthday'_

 _'You always are'_ , he thought and took the present.  
Sitting down on his bed, he unwrapped it. Knowing Monica, he had expected it to be a book. But these were two tickets. A flight ticket to Belgrade, Serbia, in his name, and a museum ticket to...  
His heart almost stopped.  
 _The Nikola Tesla Museum._  
Folded between the tickets was another note:

 _'You can forget about sleeping. Jennifer's confirmed your three-day leave with Emily. Call me when you get this. Your flight leaves at 4:00 AM. xoxo'_

He wasted no time in calling her. As expected, she had been waiting for the call.  
"Monica, how could you afford this?" - was his first question.  
"I arranged for it months ago. The ticket was cheap. And the museum ticket was a favour returned by one of my colleagues"  
"But..."  
"Just say 'thank you', Dr. Reid. Or don't. At least tell me if you liked it"  
His voice was mellow.  
"You're not coming with me?"  
"Sorry about that. I got a work thing"  
The woman was transparent, even on the phone.  
"You're lying"  
"I'm so not! I just have this-this family thing I gotta be there for!"  
"You just said it was a work thing"  
"I... are you calling me a liar, Fed?"  
He smiled,  
"I'm just saying I can see right through you"  
"Oh yeah? I can see through you too. I can even tell exactly what you're doing right now. That's how well I know you"  
"Give it your best shot"  
"You're cradling the phone to your ear, 'cause you're taking off your shoes or tie or something. The left corner of your mouth is slightly raised because you're trying not to laugh, but I'm hilarious"  
He laughed,  
"You're good"  
"Really? I got that right?"  
"Yeah"  
"Woohoo!"  
"Monica", he tried it another way, "It's my birthday. Won't you come with me? You can pay me back for the ticket later if you want"  
"Uh-uh. I am not taking sex _and_ money from you. Which reminds me, we're going to, double quotes, _celebrate_ your birthday when you get back. I have something really special planned"  
He touched a hand to his face, blushing. Monica said,  
"All right. Enough foreplay. Please start packing. You will **not** miss this. Those tickets were a once-in-a-lifetime score for me. This whole week, all of Tesla's personal effects they have - including his handwritten notes - are going to be on display! It's going to be like a Tesla fiesta. You've gotta go!"  
Overwhelmed as he was, he managed to speak.  
"I don't know what to say"  
He could hear the smile in her voice.  
"There's something _I_ have been meaning to say, but I want to see your face when I say it"  
"What is it?"  
"Nothing that can't wait. Now start packing or I'll come over and make you"

* * *

 _November 9:_

She had given him a birthday present he would remember all his life. And on her birthday, he was a thousand miles away, trying to catch a spree killer.  
"Reid"  
He looked up to find Luke standing by the desk.  
"Do you need a ride to the hotel? Man, you look like hell", Luke said, "We'll come back to this tomorrow with fresh eyes. Come on"  
Gathering his coat, he followed Luke out of the local police station.

It was 2:00 AM when he reached his hotel room. The first thing he did was call Monica. Part of him wished he should let her sleep, but he didn't know when he'd get the chance to call her tomorrow.  
"This is Monica Knight and her imaginary friends. Leave a message!"  
He sighed. She was asleep.  
 _Beep._  
"Monica, it's Spencer. Happy Birthday. I know I should be there with you today and not here but...", he said, "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you. I hope you have fun though. And... listen. There's something I... something I want to tell you. But I guess I better say it to your face. You probably already know it anyway. Well... happy birthday again. Good night"  
 _Beep._


	11. Clouds

_"I am my love's and he is mine forever,  
Sealed with a seal and safe forevermore" _

_\- Sara Teasdale_

* * *

A picnic in the park. His photosynthetic girlfriend's idea, of course. Said she was bringing someone to meet him. It had to be a child. Adults didn't meet other adults at a park. Maybe a really younger sibling? Or a niece or nephew? He would find out soon anyway. He was entering the park.

Monica had said "they" would be waiting for him under the only white oak tree in the park.  
 _'Quercus alba'_ , he thought.  
Spencer looked through the Saturday crowd at the trees. He wasn't as used to distinguishing them from each other. But ever since he met Monica, he had been reading up more on botany, plant ecology, forestry. She had made him taste some sweet sap once.  
 _Yuk._  
"Dr. Reid. To your left!"  
He turned towards the sound of her voice. She was where she had told him she would be. And god damn it, Monica.

On that pink tablecloth, wearing a dress with cherries on it, she should have looked like a girl. But she was full woman. The peek he got through her sweetheart neckline caught his attention. It reminded him of the treasures he had lately explored. Sitting with her legs crossed, smiling at him, with the tree shading her from the sun, the cumulative effect of her appearance on him could be summed up in one word - inviting. An image passed through his mind, of making love to her then and there on the tablecloth. He was comfortable enough with her now to not push away that image.  
"Hi!"  
"Hi"  
Monica patted the space next to her. Spencer sat down. He checked to make sure there were no insects on the tree trunk before he leaned against it. Monica's eyes looked ridiculously greener at such close proximity.  
"Are you ready to meet my friend?", she asked him.  
The cog-work in his brain never disappointed him. It spun fast enough to deduce it wasn't a child she wanted him to meet. It was...  
"Here. Come here, boy. That's it. That's it. Good boy!"  
A dog.  
But not the kind he had expected. Monica rubbed her new friend's back and looked up at Spencer with a smile.  
"Dr. Reid, meet Bubbly. Bubbly, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. He's the boyfriend. Better get used to being around him"  
"You actually bought this... thing?", he couldn't help asking.  
"No, I got him from the shelter", she caressed the wrinkly cur, "And why are you upset? You were the one who told me to get a dog"  
"A guard dog"  
"He is. Bubbly's a bulldog. Can't you see?"  
Spencer tried to summon some affection for the old dog by looking at him. With wrinkles for a face, and for the body as well, the dog was ancient. Tired from standing for two minutes, Bubbly moaned and sat down. It would be a wonder if he could protect himself, let alone the woman who had adopted him.  
Spencer tried his best to not sound condescending.  
"Monica", he pointed out, "He is nearly blind"  
"Only in one eye", she stroked the dog's back, "He is 10 years old afterall"  
Spencer put a hand to his mouth to keep himself from questioning her common sense. Monica went on, clearly infatuated with Bubbly.  
"I saw him sleeping in one of those boxes they keep them in. It was love at first sight. Isn't he adorable? Yes, he is. You are. Yes, you are"  
He gave her a moment to stop petting the dog, but she didn't.  
"What happens when a burglar tries to get into your house? You think it's likely that _Bubbly_ here is going to be able to protect you?"  
She gave him a look,  
"I don't need a bodyguard. Bubbly's my friend. I really don't understand why you don't like him. He's harmless"  
"Exactly my point!"  
Monica didn't react. She kept one hand on Bubbly and put the other in her purse.  
"You can say whatever you want. I'm not going to let it ruin our morning or my relationship with Bubbly. Do you want the hand sanitizer or the paper soap? I brought extra bottles of water"  
"Soap and water"  
She handed those to him and said to her dog,  
"Come on, Bubbly. It's time for your noon medicine. Come on, boy"  
Spencer watched her pry open Bubbly's mouth, who was _obviously_ too tired to move his jaw, and slip the large tablet inside.  
"What is that for?", he asked.  
She kept her back to him, washing her hands with soap.  
"Monica?"  
"He has vertigo"  
Bubbly drooled over the grass, panting with exhaustion.

After a lunch of chutney sandwiches, pita wraps and a fruit salad, Monica had somehow convinced her boyfriend to lie down with his head on her lap. Spencer was quite enjoying that position. Bubbly being asleep behind the tree helped too.  
An RC helicopter flew at some distance from them. It made Spencer wonder if kids played Frisbee anymore. Monica's hand in his hair soon diverted his attention. He said,  
"Saint Monica - Saviour of Lost Causes"  
She hit him lightly on the shoulder, making him grin.  
"Do you honestly think he's going to act like a guard dog if the time comes?"  
"I don't care if he will. My neighbourhood is pretty safe. And Bubbly's more of a companion than just a guard dog", she smiled, "He even tried to lick my hand today"  
"He looks like he's going to drop dead any second"  
"Hey!"  
"Ouch. That almost hurt", he laughed.  
Monica had shoved his head off her lap. He sat up next to her, with a grin on his face that contradicted her glaring eyes. Picking a dry leaf off her dress, Spencer asked,  
"Answer me this - who's going to take care of him when you're not home?"  
"My Dad. He's promised to come over and look after him while I'm at work"  
"Does your Dad know Bubbly has three feet in the grave?"  
Monica exclaimed,  
"Okay, seriously - what is so wrong about adopting an older dog? Just because he can't protect me, does it mean I shouldn't have him?"  
Her annoyance couldn't affect his mirth.  
"It's illogical to have a bulldog that is almost useless. The fact that..."  
"Everything doesn't have to be governed by logic. Don't tell me that's what you think"  
"Think about it this way - can you afford his healthcare? Isn't it inconvenient for your Dad to have to come look after him everyday? If you had done the logical thing and gotten a dog that could... walk two steps maybe..."  
Monica scoffed,  
"You talk like everything you do is logical"  
"It is"  
"That is a load of bollocks, and you know it"  
He loved it when she used British slang. But the battle wasn't over. She said,  
"I can prove it to you. Come on. Get on your back. Lie down here. Get... what?"  
"Monica, there are children around"  
"That's not what I mean! Just lie down"  
She pulled him down next to her on the tablecloth. Reid felt her soft bare arm brushing his cheek while she adjusted her position. Patting down her dress, Monica snuggled closer to him. She pointed to the sky.  
"Tell me what you see"  
Spencer looked away from her at the sky above. His brow furrowed,  
"The atmosphere?"  
"No, genius. The clouds. That one. What does it look like to you?"  
Taking that as a challenge, he analysed the shape of the cloud in his mind.  
"A DNA helix"  
"You're trying too hard", Monica chuckled, "Look again"  
"It does look like it. That", he pointed, "...looks like the double-stranded..."  
"It so doesn't. It looks like a girl spinning a ribbon while she is dancing"  
"What? No way! How could it..."  
They cloud-watched until he forgot what they had been arguing about it.

* * *

Later in the afternoon, they were still watching clouds. Monica's head was on Spencer's arm that went around her.  
"That", she focused, "looks like a really large butt"  
His chest shook with the laugh. He said,  
"You're ridiculous"  
"You know you like it, hondo", she kissed his jaw.  
Closing his eyes, Spencer tried to memorise how he felt in that moment.  
Not a care in the world.  
No murderers to catch.  
No race against time.  
And the warmth of the woman he desired above all.  
He exhaled and realised he had mumbled something.  
"Really?"  
"What?", he asked, eyes still closed.  
"You just told me you love me"  
Opening his eyes, turning his face to hers, he took one long look at Monica. Her eyes expected nothing from him. That's when he knew.  
"I meant it", he said.  
Monica smiled and touched her forehead to his. Her hand was on his heart. She rubbed circles on his chest with her fingertips.  
"Can I ask you something?"  
"Sure", he said.  
"Where's the logic in confessing your feelings to me, after doing something as mundane as watching clouds float by?"  
Monica patted his chest,  
"That's what I thought"  
Spencer resisted the temptation of arguing with her and closed his eyes again. He could feel her tremble just a bit as she said,  
"I love you too, Spencer"  
With a peaceful smile, he lay there, holding eternity in his arms.


	12. Perverts

Were it not for the brightly coloured walls and the sunlight streaming over the bed, Spencer wouldn't have realised he wasn't at home. It could only mean he had grown comfortable with this new arrangement. He rubbed his eyes and looked over at his bedfellow. Her back was to him. He placed a hand on her arm.  
"Monica?", he said softly, "Wake up"  
She threw the covers off and sat up at breakneck speed.  
"Wha-what? What is it?"  
He tried not to laugh.  
"Nothing. Just... Monday"  
She closed her eyes again. Reid began to straighten her hair that had stood up at weird angles.  
"You have a class in two hours. Come on", he said, patting her hair down, "Why don't you get out of bed and I'll see about breakfast?"  
That seemed to awaken her. She looked around absently, then pulled the covers off herself.  
"I got breakfast covered. I got it", she got out of bed.  
"You sure?"  
"Yeah", she ambled over to the bathroom.  
Spencer sat in bed, looking after her with a smile. He put his feet on the floor and hit a soft lump instead. Bubbly kept on snoring. Spencer whispered to him,  
"Sorry"  
He tiptoed around the old dog and walked out of the room.

At her breakfast table, they feasted on crepes. Spencer sat across from her and enjoyed the hearty meal.  
And the sight.  
Monica's dark hair framed her face, bringing out its best features. Her nose satisfied him. It was a perfect geometrical shape.  
"You look lovely today", he said.  
She smiled at the news she was reading.  
"Thanks. You do too"  
"Yeah? What am I wearing?"  
She didn't have to look up from her tablet.  
"A light purple shirt, grey trousers, a striped blue tie, grey sweater vest, brown shoes, purple and pink socks, and... pink boxers"  
His jaw stopped moving. Monica put the cup of tea to her mouth.  
"How did you know the colour of my underwear? We didn't have sex last night"  
"I have my ways"  
"Monica"  
She looked up, grinning,  
"I checked you out while you were changing. I'm sorry!"  
He tried to give her a disapproving look but laughed instead.  
"You're a Peeping Tom!"  
"You were looking all sexy in your manly underwear and you were _humming!_ What else could I do?"  
Shaking his head, he gathered their empty dishes and headed for the sink. He walked to the table again and picked up his bag from the floor.  
"I'll text you when I can. Have a great day", he said.  
"Dr. Reid?"  
He was walking to the door, and retrieving his car keys from the bag.  
"Yeah?"  
Monica said from behind him,  
"I liked what I saw"  
He didn't stop walking, not wanting her to see the colour in his face or his embarrassed smile.  
"Bye!", he exclaimed and closed the door behind him.  
The woman gave him stomach flutters, seriously.

* * *

When work proved to be excruciatingly slow that day, he thought of surprising her. She loved surprising him. Maybe he could return the favour. After getting Emily's permission, Spencer Reid set out for Mary Washington University.

Universities made him nostalgic. It was in such institutions of learning that his true potential as a student had been honed. He was enjoying being back on a college campus.  
"Excuse me", he stopped the woman who looked like a faculty member, "Do you know where I can find Dr. Monica Knight?"  
The woman couldn't help him. Spencer thanked her anyway and headed for the teachers' lounge. It wouldn't look good for his girlfriend if he just barged in there. Thankfully, someone stepped out of the lounge and Spencer consulted him.  
"Excuse me. Could you tell me where I can find Dr. Monica Knight?"  
The man raised a thick, shapely eyebrow.  
"Who's asking?"  
"I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. Hi. Do you know Dr. Knight?"  
The man folded his arms over his chest. His muscles flexed under his casual shirt.  
"You're looking at her boyfriend, pal. What do you want with Monica?"  
A sharp pain pinched his chest, but only for a moment. It was impossible. Spencer didn't break eye contact.  
"You're lying"  
"Why would I be lying?"  
He tried not to sound pissed,  
"For one, she doesn't like heavy brutes with an outdated perception of masculinity"  
The man's face erupted into a wide smile that did nothing to disarm Spencer.  
"Monica sure knows how to pick them", the man offered him his hand, "I'm Gabriel Lawley. Sorry about the ribbing. When you told me your name, I couldn't help myself"  
When left hanging, Gabriel put his hand back in his pocket.  
"Monica's mentioned you before. We go way back. We were lab partners her freshman year at Richmond. Shame she left for Oxford next semester"  
Spencer didn't bat a lash. Prof. Lawley cleared his throat.  
"I think I saw her leaving. Take a left down that path. They park the bicycles there"  
Spencer left.

Walking as fast as his feet would permit, he located his destination. Monica had her back to him as she took her bicycle off its pedestal. Wanting to be romantic for once, Spencer slowly walked up behind her and put his arms around her.  
He was greeted with a swift kick in the stomach.  
"Motherf... _Dr. Reid!_ Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"  
He had doubled over in pain and she pulled him up. Monica was frantic.  
"What are you doing here? You scared me! Oh dear, I am sorry. I thought you were a pervert"  
Frail as she looked, his girlfriend had a killer hoof. Spencer summoned enough energy to speak.  
"It's okay", he croaked.  
Monica fussed over him.  
"I am so, so sorry. Does it hurt too bad?"  
"It feels like my guts imploded", he winced.  
"Oh no. Let me take you to the nurse. Come on. Can you walk?"  
He managed. Monica supported his form over her smaller frame. She held his arm across her shoulders as they walked.  
"Darling, I love you but... never sneak up on me again. I am one of those naturally jumpy people"  
"Noted"  
"I feel terrible though. My poor boyfriend. This is a nice surprise?"  
He gave her such a look she shut up.

"Stop rubbing my stomach. I am not a baby", Spencer exclaimed.  
Monica meekly pulled her hand back. After visiting the campus clinic, they were sitting in the cafetaria. A balding man in a tweed coat passing by their table, stopped to chuckle and say,  
"Fraternising with students, are we, Dr. Knight?"  
Monica didn't miss a beat,  
"Choke on my dick, Perkins. Piss off"  
Perkins sauntered away, chuckling still, while Spencer looked to his girlfriend for an explanation. She sighed.  
"Ah, what the hell. I was gonna tell you anyway. I turned in my two weeks' notice today"  
He raised his eyebrows,  
"You're quitting your job?"  
"I know it's a coveted position and I should be grateful and all, but I can't take any more of this place. Everybody's trying to shove each other into the dirt. My students were the only reason keeping me here. Finals Week starts next Monday. So when I leave, I'll leave knowing I didn't abandon them"  
"But you love teaching"  
"It's not just that. I don't even care about botany anymore"  
He wondered aloud,  
"What are you going to do?"  
Monica said,  
"I got an offer for a research project. It's more about forestry than botany. They need a plant expert"  
"That's great", he smiled, "You wanted a change anyway"  
"That's true. The actual field work should only take a month but..."  
"But what?"  
But she didn't seem happy. She looked up at him.  
"The job's in Australia"  
And his smile withered.

* * *

 _"Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love"_

 _\- George Eliot_


	13. Promises

A/N: I am done reconstructing this, I promise. Due to the new changes, the story will make more sense if you read it from the beginning. Sorry? Please let me know what you think of the new chapters. Thanks!

* * *

 _"Alone, afraid, I called your name aloud -_ _  
_ _Mine eyes, unveiled, beheld white stars agleam,_ _  
_ _And lo! awake, I cried "Thank God, thank God,_ _  
_ _A dream - a dream!"_

 _\- Ella Wheeler_

* * *

Holding the book he had brought her, Monica gave Spencer such a look. She reminded him of an upset child now more than ever.  
"Monica..."  
"I don't wanna go", she whined.  
He laughed,  
"They are announcing your flight!"  
She hugged him. He pat her head as she complained.  
"I won't get to see you for a whole month. I feel bad about making you wait for me", she poked his chest, "You could get a side dish while I'm away"  
He said,  
"I have waited 37 years for you. I think I can wait another month"  
Monica mewled,  
"Why would you say something so sweet when I'm going away?!"  
"Monica..."  
"Don't 'Monica' me", she grumbled and picked up her bag, "I know I have to go"  
Reid put a hand on her shoulder,  
"This is a huge deal. Australia will be good for your career"  
"Whatever", she moped, "I am going now"  
"Have a safe flight"  
She threw her bag to the floor and kissed him on the lips. Spencer had tried all morning to be happy for her sake, but that kiss damn near broke his resolve.  
"Thrice fairer than myself", she said, "I love, love, _love_ you"  
He smiled,  
"I love you too"  
She shook her head and smiled away the tears in her eyes.  
"Don't you...", Monica put her hand in his hair, "...forget about me"  
"Stop talking in lyrics. Go"  
Walking backwards, she sang so only they could hear,  
"When I walk on by..."  
That made him grin. She kept it up until he was out of earshot. Then she raised her fist in the air and blew him a kiss. Reid stood in the airport and waved her goodbye.

* * *

Monica hadn't called. She hadn't responded to his texts. He understood the pressures of being involved in an empirical study but, a single, one-word text to let him know she was okay wouldn't have hurt.  
He was lonesome again.  
And though he didn't want to admit it to himself, he missed her touching him. Somehow, her touch didn't make him want to recoil. It was genius, the way she always knew when to touch him and how.  
Time didn't care that he missed his girlfriend though. It was a slow, torturous couple of days he had had to spend.

"Hello!", Monica waved at him through the screen.  
She had finally called.  
"Hi", he beamed at her.  
"I miss youuuu!"  
Spencer laughed. He said,  
"How was your first day on the field?"  
"Pretty good. They made fun of my accent and a giant spider crawled up my shorts"  
"Are you okay? Did it bite you?"  
"No, no. I screamed so loud he turned deaf and ran away"  
"Seriously, did you check and make sure you weren't bitten... down there?"  
Monica leaned forward with her elbow on her desk,  
"Do _you_ want to check?"  
"Monica"  
"I did! There's no spider venom in my vagina. I made sure of that because I am gonna start humping you the moment I see you again!"  
"Will you keep it down?", he shushed her, blushing, "My Mom is here"  
"Sorry, sorry. Put your headphones on"  
"Yeah"  
He reached for the headphones that were right before him on the table. His hand collided with them wrong and they fell to the floor.  
"Just a second", Spencer said and bent to retrieve them.  
When he put them in his ear, sat back upright and plugged them in, his eyes stared in horror at what was on the screen.  
"Dr. Reid?"  
Diane Turner stood smiling right behind Monica's chair. He didn't care she was dead. He only knew what she did to him and the woman he loved.  
"Monica, get out of there"  
"Oh, my friend's here. I have to go now. Bye"  
"Monica, don't go with her, she's going to kill you. Don't! Monica! No! _NO!_ _**MONICAAA!**_ "

Screaming her name, he shot up in bed. His chest convulsed with the heavy breaths he drew. Sweat dripped down his forehead into his eyes. He sat there, drawing lungfuls of breath.  
 _'A dream. Just a dream'_  
After a while, he got out of bed, put on his robe and went to the kitchen.

He tried some coffee, afraid the nightmare would return. The coffee only worsened the sick feeling seeing Turner had left in his guts.  
Diane Turner was dead. She couldn't hurt anyone anymore. Not Maeve, not Monica.  
But was Monica safe from all the other countless enemies he had? Why the hell was he putting her life in danger? His happiness certainly wasn't worth more than her well-being. Sooner or later, someone was going to take her away from him. They always did.

* * *

When Monica actually called him, Spencer had to force himself to smile. Every glance, every movement of her features, every smile of hers seemed precious. She could vanish out of his life like a wisp of smoke, if fate had its way.  
"You look upset. Do you want me to take my shirt off?"  
He was too tired to laugh.  
"I'm fine"  
"You don't look fine. What's going on?"  
"Nothing"  
"Doc, you're transparent. What is it? Bad case?"  
"No"  
"Headaches?"  
"No"  
"Is Diana okay?"  
"She is. It's not that"  
"Then what is it?"  
He tried to make it seem trivial.  
"I had a bad dream, that's all"  
"About?"  
He didn't have to tell.  
"About me? What happened in it?"  
He licked his dry lips. His hand ransacked his hair.  
"We were on a video call, just like right now. And... we were talking, but then I looked behind you and... the woman who killed Maeve, she was there"  
"Oh"  
They stared at each other, silent. Monica said,  
"And you said you were okay"  
"I am, you know. I'm just a little shaken. That's all"  
"She is dead, Dr. Reid. She can't hurt anyone again"  
"I know"  
Monica said,  
"And if she rose from the grave and sneaked up behind me, I would kick her twice as hard as I kicked you the other day"  
He shook his head, weary that she had made him smile at last.  
"That should do it", he said.  
Monica tilted her head and smiled at him.  
"No one is going to pull us apart. They would have to go through me first"  
"That's what scares me"  
"It's not going to happen. Why would you waste your energy worrying about a mere possibility? If it does happen, we'll get through it together. You're not getting rid of me. I'll hang on to you like koala on a branch"  
"I thought you said you were a quokka"  
"Ooh, that reminds me! We're going on a safari this week. There's a herbivore conv..."  
Like always, she took his worries and cast them aside. He did worry about losing her, but far though she was, he knew Monica meant to stay.


	14. Competitors

A/N: Um, leave me a review maybe? Thanks.

* * *

" _Jealousy is no more than feeling alone against smiling enemies"_

 _\- Elizabeth Bowen_

* * *

On one of their oddly timed video calls, Monica was hysterical. Spencer watched her with amusement. She wheezed, laughed.  
"And then... and then guess which "award-winning botanist" sits in the... in the poison ivy? Gabriel Lawley... my coworker. Hahahahaha..."  
Spencer's face fell.  
"Did you say Gabriel?"  
"Yeah", Monica was wiping her tears.  
"What's that... that loser doing there?"  
"Pardon your French", Monica laughed, "How did you know Gabe was a loser?"  
"Gabe?"  
"Yeah. We were friends when I was at Richmond. He's the one who recommended me to Mary Washington. You know him?"  
"I met him that day on the campus. He told me he was your boyfriend"  
Monica scoffed,  
"He wishes. We have always been friends though. I wonder why he didn't tell me you guys met"  
"Maybe he is subconsciously denying my existence"  
"Slow down there, hondo. He's not an UnSub"  
Spencer said,  
"I don't like that guy"  
"I don't like him that way either"  
"Good"  
"Wait a second", Monica gasped, "Are you jealous of Gabriel?"  
"I am not"  
"Well good, 'cause I'm not one of those people who thinks jealousy is cute. I'm your girlfriend and I am committed to you. It is expected of you to believe that"  
"I didn't say otherwise", he shrugged.  
"Besides, there are plenty of hot Australians around me..."  
"Very funny, Monica. Laugh. You don't know what you look like under the sun"  
"I look sweaty and messy! No one but you could find me attractive like that"  
"Whatever"  
She stopped giggling and matched his serious expression.  
"All right, enough joking. How was work today? Did you identify the first victim?"  
"Actually, Heather did", he said, "She's really good. We..."  
"Heather as in the new agent on your team?"  
"Yeah", he said innocently, "Agent Heather Roane"  
"Is she blonde?"  
"What?"  
"Does she have blonde hair?"  
"Yeah. Why do you want to know?"  
"Yeah, you stay away from her"  
He had to laugh.  
"What are you talking about?"  
Monica said,  
"You have a thing for blondes"  
"No, I don't"  
"Yes, you do!"  
"Wha... JJ's blonde. Garcia's blonde too"  
"You did have a crush on Jennifer"  
"That is... that's ridiculous!", he said, "You're not blonde!"  
"I know. That's why it took me four months to seduce you"  
"You didn't _seduce_ me"  
"I _bumped_ into you in the library almost every other day? When we started talking, I brushed up on my knowledge of psychology to keep up with your conversations. I read up as much as I could?", Monica said, "Sweetheart, that was me seducing you"  
"Really?"  
"Yeah. That's why, maintain a safe distance from hot blondes. You're easy. A few well-placed anecdotes and you will let anyone on your good side"  
"That's not true. Monica, I'm a profiler"  
"Just don't go showing your dimples to blonde women. Simple as that. I trust you, but still"  
He teased her,  
"Jealousy - the green-eyed monster, which doth mock the meat it feeds on"  
"Don't you quote Willie to me, Mr. I-think-Shakespeare-is-overrated. I'm not jealous. Know what? Go kiss a blonde. I don't care. I trust you"  
He grinned. Monica folded her arms over her chest.  
"I wish I was kissing a brunette right now", he added for effect, "My brunette"  
There was that coy smile he adored. Monica said,  
"I would offer you phone sex but..."  
She moved her laptop so it showed her roommate.  
"Say hi to my boyfriend, Riley", Monica was heard saying.  
Riley waved at him, said "Hi", and got back to her phone screen. Monica's face was on his computer screen again.  
"I miss you", he admitted.  
"I miss you too. I'm counting down the days"  
"26 to go"  
Monica smiled,  
"Until I am with you and Bubbly again. How's he anyway?"  
Spencer glanced at the droopy mass by his feet.  
"He seems... alive. For now"  
"Thanks for looking after him. Gosh, you have been so good to me lately, I'm gonna have to reward you"  
The meaning of her words was lost on him.  
"Just come back to me, safe and sound"  
"You bet"


	15. Tricks

A/N: Please let me know what you think of this story! I would appreciate it much. Thanks!

* * *

 _"I have learned not to worry about love; but to honor its coming with all my heart."_

 _\- Alice Walker_

* * *

Why was this so difficult? She was a simple person, enjoyed the simple things. But he knew he couldn't greet her at the airport, holding a bouquet. She hated "cut-up" flowers. He knew he couldn't wait at her place and surprise her. She kicked people who surprised her.  
 _'This will have to do'_  
Spencer made sure the tablecloth was even on all sides. He had managed to make his apartment look presentable. The evening had to be perfect. Monica deserved perfection.

The doorbell rang, nearly making him jump. He quickly checked his own appearance. Bubbly watched him fidget with his tie from the drawing room floor.  
 _'Breathe'_  
He advanced towards the door and looked through the peep-hole. There she was. He couldn't help but smile. She looked smaller somehow. Tanned. How he had missed her.  
 _Triiing._  
At the sight of her, he had momentarily forgotten to open the door. He soon did and greeted her with a smile. Spencer's heart swelled with male vanity on seeing her.  
"Hi", he said, mesmerised.  
Monica grinned at him.  
"Hey"  
"Come in, please"  
She did and he closed the door behind them. Monica took a look at the apartment and said,  
"Somebody's been..."  
He clasped her to his heart. It took her a moment to relax in his tight embrace, but she hugged him back.  
"I missed you too", she said.  
Spencer held onto her for another moment, unwilling to let go. But he feared he would never let go if he didn't any soon. Monica was looking up at him with such adoration. He lowered his head to kiss her.  
 _'Sweet as always'_  
They kissed in a tender fashion, like friends would. Spencer smiled when they drew apart. He said,  
"Let me take your coat"  
He helped her out of it.  
"Thanks"  
Revealed to him were her bare arms and back, the rest cruelly covered in red fabric. He looked at it and wondered why he hadn't noticed before how beautiful her neck was. It looked...  
"There's my boy!"  
Monica was down on her knees, beckoning to Bubbly. The dog actually made the effort to walk into her arms. Spencer wondered rhetorically if it was the same dog who hated having to chew food.  
"Oh, wee boy. I missed you too. You were good to Dr. Reid? Were you?", she took his paw and waved it at Spencer, "Say 'Thanks, Dr. Reid'. He took such good care of you, didn't he?"  
Bubbly licked her hands with his tired tongue, making her giggle. It made Spencer resent him a little. Monica let go of Bubbly and rose.  
"Don't worry", she smiled at Spencer, "I'll wash my hands"  
"Take your time"  
When she went in towards the bathroom, he looked down at Bubbly.  
"Couldn't wait to slobber all over her, could you?"  
Ignoring him, Bubbly drooled over the floor and made it his bed. Spencer sidestepped him, walking to the table. Monica returned to the drawing room and stood next to him.  
"Allow me"  
He pulled out her chair for her.  
"Why, thank you"  
Taking the chair across from hers, he said,  
"I know you're not a wine person, so..."  
He made a show of pouring the vodka into their glasses. Monica couldn't stop smiling. Spencer raised his glass.  
 _"Za nas"_  
She clinked it with hers,  
 _"Za lyubov"_  
"You never told me you speak Russian", he smiled.  
"What can I say? I am an international woman of mystery", she winked.

Dinner had been another of his worries. _Chicken tikka_ looked a little incongruous on a romantic dinner table, but he knew she loved it.  
"Not that I'm complaining, cause this is really thoughtful", Monica said, "But normally, your idea of a romantic date is doing magic tricks for me in bed. _Literally._ I quite like magic. Why this... step up?"  
He forked a piece of chicken.  
"I wanted to give you a proper welcome"  
"Then you should have been naked when I got here"  
"Monica..."  
"Yeah, yeah. When you used the word "date", I knew you were up to something. I got out of my parents' welcome party early to get ready"  
"You look lovely"  
"Thanks. It took some effort"  
He caught a glimpse of her chest and found himself saying,  
"Are you wearing your date bra?"  
The look on her face made him want to bite his tongue. Before he could apologise, Monica smirked.  
"I'm not wearing any, actually"  
It was his turn to choke. She poured him some water.  
"Thank you", he coughed.  
When he looked better, she asked,  
"So... what are we doing after this?"  
"Mm. Dancing"  
"You're serious?"  
"Yes"  
"You know I'm a terrible dancer"  
"You will enjoy it, I promise"  
She shrugged and had another helping of _chicken tikka_.

After dinner, he brought Monica to the centre of the drawing room.  
"Bubbly, get up"  
He wouldn't.  
"Come on, Bubbly. Up"  
Spencer made a face and lifted Bubbly out of their way. When he faced Monica, she seemed confused but excited.  
"I'm guessing this is the dance part"  
"Yes"  
He touched some buttons on his phone and kept it within hearing distance. Monica looked at his outstretched hand and placed her own in it. Spencer drew her close and waited for her to hear it. From the phone, Eva Cassidy's ethereal voice reached them -  
 _'For you, there'll be no crying..._ '  
Monica looked up at him in surprise, as he slowly swayed with her.  
"How dare you?"  
He smiled in answer. He could feel her relax as the music progressed. Holding her - it had become one of the comforts in his life. But she seemed thin in his arms now. Hardened by toiling in Australian forests. He got a whiff of freshly shampooed hair when Monica rested her head on his shoulder. His slice of a familiar heaven.  
 _'And I love you, I love you, I love you... like never before'_

They stopped dancing long after the song ended. Monica still had her arms around him.  
"This was the sweetest, most wonderful date I've ever been on. Thank you"  
He beamed with pride, glad that he had treated her to a romantic evening. Monica was getting close to his face when he said,  
"I wrapped some leftovers for you to take home. I know you love _chicken tikka_ "  
She stopped.  
"I... I do. Did you say you wrapped it for me to take home?"  
"Yeah"  
"Thanks"  
He felt bereft as her arms left his body. Monica looked around.  
"I guess I grab Bubbly and get going then"  
"Yeah. It's getting late", he offered, "Do you want me to drop you?"  
There was actually a line visible on her forehead. Spencer was doing his best to not burst out laughing.  
Monica exclaimed,  
"What I need you to drop is **your frigging pants!** "  
She was laying into him right away.  
"I shoved myself into this tight dress, which is havoc on my boobs! I had to watch like four videos until I could get these motherchucking smoky eyes right! I don't get to see you for a month and you offer me _chicken tikka_ as a substitute for sex?! Don't even bother pretending that you're awkward about it. We both know you love it! But you... where do you think you're going?"  
Spencer stood by his bedroom door, holding it ajar. He wanted to watch her reaction to the scene within. Monica stepped closer.  
His bed was made up, ready. Not his usual set of sheets, but rich-coloured linen that she would like. There was a canopy surrounding it as well. The bed itself was empty. None of the nonsense she hated, flower petals or candles. Just room enough for two people to make love all night.  
"I missed you", he whispered into her ear.  
He placed a firm kiss on the nape of her neck. Trailing one hand down her shoulder, along her back, Spencer unraveled her neatly done-up hair with the other hand. Monica stood transfixed in place. He didn't mind. They could start right where they were.  
"How could you..."  
Her chatter stopped abruptly as he lay kisses on her bare skin. His soft lips found the crook of her neck. Monica held his hands as they grazed her waist. Spencer dipped his head over her neck, pausing long enough between kisses to say,  
"In you go"  
She did, and he wasn't far behind. The door made a telling sound as he closed it. He approached her, making her walk backwards right up to the bed.  
"Dr. Reid...", she said in awe.  
He heard her gasp when he got close. Reaching a hand into her hair, Spencer slipped his fingers past her earlobe. She looked at the result of his "magic trick", and laughed in relief.  
Monica took the condom foil from his fingers, looking relaxed for the first time that evening.  
"There's the man I fell in love with"  
Now it was a perfect date.


	16. Charades

A/N: Thank you to the lovely _Guest_ who posted a review on the last chapter. I was starting to think nobody cares. :') Thank YOU for taking the time to review. It made my day to know you liked my OC. Thanks again!

* * *

 _"The family – that dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor, in our inmost hearts, ever quite wish to"_

 _\- Dodie Smith_

* * *

Spencer observed her in amiable silence. She liked love songs.  
"...do you ever think back on old memories like that, and do I ever cross your mind?", Monica sang.  
She had tried to get him to sing along as well, but Spencer preferred her sweet tones mixed with those of the music player. Monica steered to the right and informed him,  
"We're here"  
He had been excited about meeting Dr. Fleming at first. Then it dawned on him in what capacity he would be meeting her - her daughter's boyfriend.  
And then there was the rest of the family. From what Monica had told him, the Knights were a tight-knit clan. They got together for lunch every other weekend.  
"Dr. Reid?"  
She brought him out of his reverie. Spencer grabbed the expensive bottle of Cabernet he had bought for the occasion. They exited the car at the same time. Monica walked over to his side and took his arm, instead of rushing over to her family.  
"Monica!"  
...who were all awaiting them on the porch.  
Spencer took a deep breath. Monica assured him,  
"It's not going to be as bad as you think. Come on"  
Off they went.

For a family which met up every other Sunday, that was an awful lot of hugging and kissing. Spencer stood at the top of their porch stairs. When the lady with the British accent, Dr. Fleming obviously, had finished kissing her daughter, she turned to him. Monica was at his side again, laying a hand on his chest.  
"Everyone, meet Dr. Spencer Reid. This is my Mom, Victoria. My Dad, Ted. This is my sister, Audrey. My sister, Catherine. My brothers, Max and George"  
"Hello"  
"Hi"  
"Nice to meet you"  
"Pleasure"  
It came as a bit of surprise to him that no one tried to shake his hand. Monica must have warned them against it.  
"Pleased to meet you, son. You're all Monica talks about lately", her Dad gave him a pat on the back, "Come on in. Make yourself comfortable"  
Spencer held out the bottle to Dr. Fleming. He was a bit starstruck, and it didn't feel right to tell her just yet that he was a fan of her work.  
"Um, this is for... thank you for having me over"  
She gave him a heartfelt smile.  
"Thank you for the wine. Come along. Have a seat"

It should have felt intimidating, claustrophobic even, to be surrounded by so many strangers. But the Knight family wasn't staring at him. Nor were they ignoring him.  
"Monica told us you work for the FBI, Spencer", Catherine smiled at him.  
He smiled back, politely.  
"I do, yes"  
Monica was perched on the armrest next to him on the couch. She reminded him,  
"Catherine's wife, Elaine, is a firearms instructor at the Academy"  
He knew.  
"Elaine Dawson"  
Catherine asked,  
"You know her?"  
"I know of her"  
Monica had given him a little background on her family members. The surgeon Catherine, the Law Ph.D. Audrey, the ophthalmologist Max - with the exception of Monica's father and George, the Knight drawing room boasted of "doctors". No wonder they didn't feel intimidated or alienated by him.  
"Mon said you're a profiler", George made conversation.  
"I am"  
Mr. Knight raised a finger, trying to recall something.  
"I had the occasion to work with one of your agents in '87. I remember 'cause Monica was born that November. Remarkable guy, must have retired by now. David Rossi"  
The name brought a smile to Spencer's face. He said,  
"SSA Rossi is our Senior Field Agent"  
That seemed to make Mr. Knight happy.  
"Is he? Great guy. The case was about this serial arsonist. Terrible stuff. We were stumped. But David Rossi solved it in two days"  
"He is one of the greatest profilers we have ever had", Spencer said.  
Audrey told him,  
"I knew your former Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner. I was a senior at Georgetown when he was a freshman"  
Max joined the conversation.  
"I don't know much about the BAU, but I'm grateful for what you guys do. You take monsters off the streets, save lives"  
George chimed in,  
"I think it's a bit of an overreach to call serial killers 'monsters'. They are human. Human beings are capable of all sorts of violence. Serial killers just prove that"  
Catherine argued,  
"But some might say what makes us human is our empathy and compassion. If a person lacks these values, does he deserve to be called human?"  
Audrey made a counter point,  
"That is what they are though. People. A difference of morality doesn't necessarily disqualify them from being human"  
Mr. Knight shrugged.  
"I, for one, refuse to believe that humans, or monsters, are beyond redemption. Anybody can change. People are inherently good and kind"  
"Oh come on, Dad"  
"Dad, please. You say sociopaths don't exist!"  
"You're too sweet for your own good, Dad"  
Mr. Knight gave a little laugh and beseeched their guest.  
"Weigh in here, Spencer. What do you think?"  
He thought... he thought he had never so quickly felt at home with a bunch of strangers.  
When he looked up gratefully at Monica, she whispered to him,  
"See? You're gonna fit right in"

* * *

The Knights were a cheerful lot. Everybody seemed to know what was going on in each other's lives. He had a most excellent conversation with Dr. Fleming about her new research. Audrey fussed over Monica, while Catherine playfully poked fun at her. Max and George were thick as thieves; they made him wish he had a brother.  
It was a good afternoon.  
When they had almost finished with the lunch, Mr. Knight showed Spencer some pictures on his phone.  
"That's Monica wearing my firefighter helmet and dancing to YMCA. And this is her during her Gaia phase", Mr. Knight chuckled, "She used to call herself Gaia and tried to talk to rivers and trees, and squirrels…"  
"Dad!", she complained, "Stop embarrassing me!"  
"It's not embarrassing. You were an adorable little girl!"  
Monica threatened her kin,  
"Which one of you put my pictures in Dad's phone? I know you did it on purpose for today. If it was you, George, I swear..."  
Spencer was enjoying himself more than he could have anticipated. He wondered if he would have been a different person, had he a family like Monica's. He couldn't imagine himself to be an extrovert though.  
"Quit putting your hand on his thigh, Mon. Let the poor guy eat"  
Monica said over the collective laughter,  
"I did not! You shut up, George!"  
"We all saw it!"  
Another round of laughter. Spencer tried not to join them on it for Monica's sake.

When they had reassembled in the drawing room, Mr. Knight suggested,  
"Why don't we all play something? Poker, anyone?"  
Spencer looked at Monica with meaning. She said to her family,  
"Maybe something else"  
Max said,  
"How about trivia? We'll use my computer"  
"Don't tell me you have a trivia game on your computer, Max. That's sad", Catherine said.  
"I'm not in the mood for trivia", Monica said over their voices.  
"But you love trivia, Mon", Audrey said, "What's wrong with trivia?"  
"Enough chitchat. Trivia it is", George got up, "Mom, pick a category"  
"Hm", Dr. Fleming gave it a thought, "Literature"  
"All right. Everybody's good with literature? Spencer?", George asked.  
"Yeah", he said.  
George clapped his hands together.  
"Let's do this then. Maxy, bring your sad computer in. Everybody, make teams. I'm with Mom!"  
Catherine complained,  
"No way! Why do you always get Mom?"  
"I called dibs!"  
"You can't call dibs on our mother!"  
Mr. Knight said,  
"Don't worry, Cathy. I'll be on your team"  
Catherine gave him a look and announced,  
"I'm with Monica"  
Audrey interjected,  
"Hey, I was gonna pick Monica"  
Max came back with his laptop,  
"Who wants to be on my team? Anyone except Dad"  
"Me!", Audrey said.  
"Oh come on", Mr. Knight laughed, "I'm not _that_ bad"  
Dr. Fleming patted his hand.  
"Darling, don't get them started"  
George pointed out,  
"That leaves Dad with Spencer. Huh. Spencer, you should know - Dad's is always the losing team"  
Monica smirked,  
"Not today"  
Audrey grinned,  
"Somebody's pretty confident about their boyfriend"  
George and Catherine "ooh"d, making Monica roll her eyes. Dr. Fleming said,  
"Won't we need someone to keep score?"  
"I'll do it", Spencer quickly said.  
"No way", George said, "Monica's already told us you're a genius. You're playing"  
Mr. Knight said,  
"I'll keep the score"  
"But now we're an odd number", Audrey observed.  
Max said,  
"I'll tap out. I don't mind"  
Dr. Fleming took charge,  
"We'll just be wasting time now, reorganizing teams. Let's pick a different game"  
"Ooh! Charades!"  
"Yeah, charades is good"  
"Charades it is"  
"That's a game I'm good at"  
"Yeah right, Dad"  
"Spencer, you don't mind charades, do ya?"  
He said,  
"No. Charades sounds fun"  
"Okay", Max put his laptop away, "Books or movies?"  
"Books" was the unanimous answer. Mr. Knight could be heard sighing.  
"Now we only need two teams", Catherine said, "How do we pick?"  
Dr. Fleming said,  
"How about, those sitting on that side and us sitting on..."  
George quickly ran across the room and sat by his brother on the couch. His mother laughed.  
"Well then, it's me, your Dad, Monica, and our guest of honour"  
"Perfect", Monica smiled at him.

Each team had 60 seconds to guess the book's title right. Monica decided to feed Audrey "The Mayor of Casterbridge". Audrey made some gestures about giving a speech and signing documents, but 60 seconds were over before her team could guess it.  
Monica taunted them,  
"Great start, losers"  
The Knight siblings, with the exception of Monica, were putting their heads together to come up with a title. They finally looked up.  
George said,  
"We're ready. Send us your best performer"  
"I'll go", Mr. Knight got up.  
The other team laughed. Max said,  
"Come here, Dad"  
Catherine covered her mouth while whispering the title. Mr. Knight scratched his head and turned to his team. Max started the clock.  
Monica was quick,  
"Okay. How many words, Dad?"  
Mr. Knight gave it a thought.  
"Dad!"  
He held up five fingers.  
"Okay. Five words"  
Mr. Knight pointed at his head.  
"Skull?", Dr. Fleming guessed.  
He thrust his head out and passed his hand under it.  
Monica guessed,  
"Head. Decapitation. No! Floating head!"  
Spencer leaned forward,  
" _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_!"  
"Yeah!", Mr. Knight grinned.  
"What the...", Max mumbled.  
Mr. Knight gave Reid's shoulder a hearty clap before sitting down. Dr. Fleming kissed her husband's cheek as a prize.  
"All right, this one's ours", Monica turned to her team. She whispered to them,  
"How about _Necronomicon_?"  
Spencer told them,  
"That may disqualify us. _Necronomicon_ isn't a real book. It's only referenced by H. P. Lovecraft in his works"  
"You're right", she said, "How about... _Cujo_?"  
"Yes!", Mr. Knight said.  
Spencer tried to advise against it, but couldn't. Monica turned to the other team and said,  
"We're ready"  
They sent George. She whispered the title in his ear and he scoffed.  
"Way too easy"  
George turned to his team and held up a finger.  
"One word", Catherine said.  
George got on all fours and snarled. Max exclaimed,  
" _Cujo_!"  
"Yes!"  
"No way!", Monica frowned.  
George got back to his team and taunted his sister,  
"Who's a loser now, Mon?"  
Spencer tried to make her stop glowering at her siblings.  
"It was a good one", he said to her.  
"No, it wasn't"  
Dr. Fleming said,  
"I'll go now"  
She walked to her children and bent her head towards them. Audrey put an arm around her neck and whispered the title in her ear. Dr. Fleming nodded and turned to her team. She held up three fingers, then pointed to the third.  
"Third word", Reid said.  
She nodded and pointed to him. Monica guessed,  
"Man. Lover. Handsome. Cute. Smart. Genius. Cop. Doctor? What? Okay. Man. Man?"  
Reid looked around at their faces, embarrassed. Catherine and George were grinning at him. Dr. Fleming went on to interlace her fingers and point them at him and Monica.  
"Couple. Relationship. Love. Lover! Affair", Monica kept trying.  
Dr. Fleming pointed at Reid then George.  
"Men? Boys. Boys? No. Boy. Boy?"  
Dr. Fleming put her hands together and waved them between Monica and Reid, as if pleading with them.  
"Boy? _About A Boy_! No? No, wait! _A Suitable Boy_! _A Suitable Boy_!"  
"Yes!", Dr. Fleming gave her a high five, "Good girl!"  
Catherine snickered,  
"Easy, Mom. The kids aren't there yet"  
Mr. Knight said,  
"All right. It's our turn now. Team huddle"  
Spencer suggested _The Chrysalids_. Dr. Fleming shook her head,  
"That's George's favourite book"  
Monica smirked,  
"Yeah. And he just might pull his hair out if he doesn't get it right. _The Chrysalids_ it is"  
Catherine couldn't act the title out. Sixty seconds passed. Monica told them what the correct title was. Though George didn't pull his hair out, he grimaced and called his sister a "monster".

"You got this", Monica said.  
Spencer walked to the other team with his game face on. George and Catherine gave him devilish smiles. He bent his head and Audrey whispered in his ear -  
" _Rebecca_ "  
That worried him. There was no way he could act that title out. Max warned them,  
"Hey, no sign language, you two"  
Well, crap.  
Monica gave him an encouraging smile nonetheless and Catherine started the timer. Spencer held up one finger. Monica began firing away titles.  
" _Persuasion. Middlemarch. It. Misery. Dracula. Carmilla. Vilette_. No?"  
Dr. Fleming tried,  
" _Nausea_?"  
Reid shook his head. He wasn't going to lose. He hated losing.  
" _Hamlet_? _Carrie_?", Monica tried.  
Rebecca was one of Monica's favourite books. She had told him that in the library once. Maybe he could try it that way.  
" _Ivanhoe_? _Perfume_? _Emma_?"  
Mr. Knight tried,  
" _Matilda_?"  
Reid pointed at himself, then at Monica. He pretended to read, turn the pages of a book.  
"Me? Me and you. A book? Our favourite books?"  
He made the shape of a structure with his hands, pretended to pull a book out of its shelf.  
"Bookshelf. Shelves. Library?"  
Yes! He pointed at themselves again. From his left, Catherine said,  
"10 seconds"  
He tried but there was no sign that could be interpreted as the word Rebecca.  
"9, 8, 7..."  
He kept shouting inside his mind - _'Rebecca! Rebecca! Rebecca!'_  
Her siblings counted in unison,  
"5, 4, 3..."  
 _'Monica, it's Rebecca!'_  
" _Rebecca_!", she said.  
George cursed and slumped backwards on the couch. The Knights gawked at Spencer and Monica. He sat down by her side with a proud little smile on his face. Audrey asked,  
"How did you even guess that?"  
Catherine teased,  
"Telepathy. A _lurv_ connection"  
"Sod off", Monica said.  
"Actually", Spencer said, "Telepathy may not be impossible after all. A recent experiment by a team composed of scientists from Barcelona and France enabled a man in India to say 'hello' to three different people in France, without using phones, computers or other traditional forms of communication"  
Dr. Fleming said,  
"Ah. I remember that. Alvaro has a great future ahead of him"  
"I'll believe it if you two can do it again", Max teased.  
Monica said irritably,  
"Are we playing charades or experimenting? Get on with the game"

When it was her turn to enact the title, Monica hoped telepathy was possible. She had heard Catherine say to their siblings,  
 _"Let's give her something dirty"_  
Audrey wouldn't let them. But this one was not going to be a picnic either. Monica turned to her team. If she didn't do it right, they would lose.  
This was medieval literature. She wanted to let Spencer know that. If anyone could guess it, it was him. But how to tell him?  
She held up six fingers, then folded her second one.  
"Second word", Mr. Knight said.  
Monica nodded and made the sign of a book.  
"Book. The second word is book", Spencer said.  
She nodded again. Then she indicated the fifth word. She pretended to count the number of her team members. She held up one finger, then a second, and then three.  
"1, 2, 3?"  
"Three?", Spencer saw her nod, "Book, three. _The Book of the Three Virtues_!"  
 _ **"YES!"**_  
Her team got to its feet, victorious and proud of it. Dr. Fleming and Mr. Knight gave each other a double high five. And Monica grabbed Spencer by the neck and kissed him.  
"Oooh! Get it, girl!", George hollered at her.  
She released Spencer amidst undisguised chuckling from her siblings. Poor thing turned red right up to his forehead. Monica smoothed down his shirt on his chest and took a step back.  
"Well", Mr. Knight said, "Looks like Monica's celebrated already. Who else wants a drink?"

* * *

When the Knight parents came to the door to see their children off, Spencer found himself a bit disappointed. Time had passed too soon when he was with them.  
"Spencer", Mr. Knight said, "I hope you can join us again the Sunday after next. My daughters-in-law will be there, and Audrey's husband too. I will plug in my karaoke machine"  
Max said,  
"Oh, you've got to be here for the karaoke, Spencer. When we were kids, Monica made me, Cat and George play the Pips. And she would be Gladys Knight. The mimicry is almost uncanny"  
"Thank you", Spencer smiled, "I'll try my best to be there"  
Mr. Knight sighed, taking in the sight of his youngest. Monica was some distance away, conversing with her mother and sisters.  
"Boy, am I glad she is finally back here. When she was working for the British, we rarely ever got to see her"  
Spencer knew Monica had studied mostly at Oxford, but she had never mentioned working there. He wondered aloud,  
"For the British?"  
Monica walked up to them just as Mr. Knight said,  
"Yeah. Her work with their spy agency, MI5. Or was it MI6? I always get the two confused"  
Footsteps halted. Five pairs of eyes shifted from Spencer to Monica and Monica to Spencer. Mr. Knight received a look from his daughter which made him say,  
"I... I thought you had told him about it. Oh. My bad, sweetie"


	17. Apologies

A/N: Many thanks to my lovely _Guest_ reviewer! See the bottom of the page for more notes. Thanks for taking the time to read!

* * *

 _"Love is a spy who is plotting treason,_ _  
_ _In league with that warm, red rebel, the Heart"_

 _\- Ella Wheeler_

* * *

The sun had begun its descent by the time they headed home. Monica did not put on any of her terrible 80's music. She drove at her regular speed, not saying anything. Neither did Spencer. When she finally spoke, he listened.  
"Are you angry with me? I would understand if you were"  
He wouldn't respond. She glanced at him.  
"I was going to tell you, I swear"  
"When?", Spencer suddenly exclaimed, "When were you going to tell me that you are a spy?"  
"I am not, I _was_. It was a long time ago. They recruited me when I was at Oxford. I was young and I wanted adventure. It really wasn't..."  
"Oh my god", it dawned on him, "That gunshot wound on your shoulder - that's not from a ricocheted bullet"  
"It is! I was in my freshman year at Richmond before I moved to England. I really got hit by a bullet when I was protesting", she said, "I may have hidden things from you, darling, but I have never lied to you. I am so sorry"  
He was trying his best to make sense of it. He had profiled her all wrong.  
"How can you be a spy? You are a terrible liar!"  
"I wasn't really a spy, you know. I just… I moved information and stuff"  
"That is exactly what a spy does!"  
"Okay, okay! But it was for a good cause every time. I never hurt anyone. I never killed anyone. Most of it was office work. I couldn't even use my guns without prior permission"  
He stared ahead, echoing her words,  
"Guns. She just said guns"  
"Oh god. I'm just making this worse!", Monica said, "Please. Believe me - it was just a job. I never got anyone killed or hurt. And it's all in the past! I got out for good years ago"  
"You worked for MI5. How can you... it's not even your country!"  
"Actually... I have dual citizenship"  
"Well, that is just _fantastic!_ "  
"Please! I don't work for them anymore. And I'm really sorry. I never meant for you to find out this way"  
"Did you mean for me to find out at all?"  
When she didn't answer, Spencer clamped his hands against his face and groaned. That made her panic.  
"I was gonna tell you, I swear! The timing was never right. And then everything started going so well, I didn't want to ruin it"  
He sat up straighter in his seat and spoke as calmly as he could.  
"What else have you been hiding from me?"  
"Nothing, absolutely nothing. This is the only thing. And it's irrelevant now. I have no contact with the Service anymore. I'm retired"  
"How do I know that's true?"  
"Because I just told you. You trust me, don't you?"  
"Yeah, my girlfriend who wears Disney onesies used to be a spy and that's all there is?", he said sardonically, "Come on, Dr. Knight. You must have another secret in there somewhere. Lay it on me"  
"Don't be like this. Please. I don't want us to fight"  
"How the hell am I supposed to trust you again, Monica?"  
She gaped at him before saying,  
"Oh like you don't have any secrets from me?"  
"I don't!"  
"Balls! You know you do. Don't make me go there"  
"Why don't you enlighten me about these secrets of mine that I don't know about?"  
"I don't have to! I'm not gonna overreact like you"  
"Overreact? I am overreacting?", his voice rose, "You call it overreacting when almost every woman I come across has some devastating effect on my life?"  
"Devastating?! You're comparing me with..."  
"And at least I don't overreact every time I see a tree stump! It's like dating an eco-terrorist!"  
"What the hell did you just call me?!"  
"You know what? Stop the car! Stop the car right here. If I argue with you for one more second, I'll lose my mind! Stop it!"  
"Fine!"  
The tires screeched as Monica braked the car. She leaned over and opened his door before he could.  
"If my presence is so unbearable to you, I won't force you to put up with it!"  
"Thanks!", he got out and shut the door.  
Monica gave him a look of disbelief, pursed her lips in a tight line and drove out of there. Spencer stood fuming where she had left him.

* * *

 _Monday night -_

They had profiled the UnSub to be meticulous to a fault. And he had been caught by the local police while staging his latest victim. It reminded Spencer of when Monica had argued with him, that most serial killers were caught by coincidence.  
It _**sucked**_.  
Sucked!  
Fighting with her - sucked.  
Not receiving her good morning voicemail - sucked.  
Wanting to yell at her and kiss her at the same time - sucked.  
Technically, she may not have lied to him. But her secret changed things. She no longer seemed like the innocent botany professor he had wooed in the library. Now she had a past he knew nothing about, unanalysed data that left him with an incomplete profile. Maybe that's why it had hit him so hard. He had profiled her wrong.  
Spencer had to remind himself that Monica was his girlfriend, not an UnSub.  
When he got off the jet, he saw she had left him 2 messages. But right under her name, there were 3 messages from the facility his mother was at. Diana needed him.

They were useless, useless people. How could they let a paranoid schizophrenic wander off the premises?  
"We assure you it won't happen again, Dr. Reid. But your mother is fine. We got a call that she was at your apartment. Our staff must already be on their way back with her right now"  
"How could she be at my apartment? She doesn't have a key!"  
"A lady called us to say your mother was safe and inside the apartment. She didn't tell who she was"  
He tried not to panic.  
"Call your people and tell them to stay with her till I get there"

Running up the flight of stairs, Spencer arrived at his door. He turned the key and threw the door open.  
"Mom? Mom, are you here?", he closed the door behind him.  
Two people, Rodney and Gina, from the facility staff were sitting in his drawing room. And a third.  
Monica.  
Sitting in the chair.  
Looking worse than ever.  
Rodney and Gina got up on seeing him.  
"We just arrived. Miss Knight brought her upstairs before we could get here. But Diana... she tried to...", Gina broke off, glancing at Monica, "To throttle her. Miss Knight said she recognized her though. Diana realized who she was hurting and she started crying. But she is fine now. Miss Knight put her to bed"  
He was before the couch within a moment. Crouching down, he tried to lift Monica's face to check on her throat. His hand shook and Monica took it before he could touch her.  
"I'm fine", she gave him a small smile, "It's nothing"  
Though the lights were dim, he could make out the angry welts on her delicate throat. His chest constricted with guilt. Spencer rose and addressed the other two.  
"I'll bring her back tomorrow, let her sleep it off. Thank you"  
Gina nodded sadly and they took their leave. That left him alone with Monica, and the regret he felt.

Closing the door upon the orderlies, Spencer went to the room his mother was in. She was fast asleep, snoring. Monica had covered her with a blanket from his room. If she hadn't found her... his mind was flooded with the possibilities, each worse than the other.  
He tried to compose himself and closed the door behind him. Monica sat still on the sofa chair. He walked to her and debated inwardly where he should sit. After watching him for a few seconds, Monica got up.  
Spencer said, shoving his hands inside his pockets,  
"Thanks for taking care of Mom. I'm sorry she hurt you"  
"It wasn't her fault. She was scared and alone"  
"What were you doing here?"  
Monica evaded eye contact.  
"I left you some messages but, you didn't call back. I got really pissed and I came here to yell at you. It didn't feel right to use the key you gave me. So I waited downstairs, on the steps"  
"For how long?"  
She shrugged,  
"An hour maybe"  
For once, he was tongue-tied. His body told him just what he wished to do to her, but pride held him back. Monica glanced at her watch.  
"It's late. I should go. Will you let me know if she's better in the morning?"  
"Who?"  
"Diana?"  
"Yeah. Yeah, sure"  
"Okay. If you need help or...", she tried, "You know"  
"Yeah"  
She turned to go,  
"Good night"  
He mumbled,  
"Night"  
One moment he was watching her walk to the door, the other moment she turned and hit him in the chest.  
"You're such a jerk!", Monica hissed through her teeth.  
He whispered back,  
"Excuse me?!"  
"I wait two hours for you on your doorstep. I leave you messages saying I'm sorry and I love you and I couldn't sleep all night thinking about you, and you can't even admit you have trust issues? What is the matter with you?!"  
They were speaking in hushed tones.  
"What's the matter with me? What's the matter with you?! Why did you not tell me you were a spy? You don't even look like a spy!"  
"That's the whole point of being a spy! Incognito!", she whispered, "And you didn't tell me you worked for the FBI until we started dating!"  
"It never came up!"  
"This never came up either!"  
He whispered,  
"It's my fault for not asking you if you had any connections with British counterintelligence?!"  
"Why is it such a big deal? _Jesus!_ I am not a bloody spy anymore! I wasn't even one of those honey-trappers, if that's what you're worried about. They only hired me 'cause I was in activist circles and I spoke some foreign languages. It was _another life_. Now I am just a boring, middle-aged botany researcher who saves discount coupons!"  
"You're not boring", he frowned, "You are one of the most interesting people I know"  
Her shoulders sagged. Monica groaned. She said,  
"Why are we still fighting about this? I told you I am sorry. I really am"  
Spencer stared at her wary expression. Swallowing his pride, he said,  
"Because I have a pathological need to be right, to know everything. And my ego took a hit when I found out there was something I didn't know about you"  
Monica's hands landed on his arms. She passed them along his sleeves, looking up at him.  
"Everything you need to know about me, you do know. This is me, Dr. Reid. This weepy, bumbling mess before you is me. What I did back then was just a job. It's not who I am"  
She held his hand in both of hers.  
"You have to believe me - I would never hurt you. And if you don't... if you don't love me anymore..."  
Quickly, he said,  
"I do. I still do. I just... I'm a little paranoid, with good reason. But I know. You would never hurt me. You... you don't even turn off the lights when I stay over", a reluctant smile appeared on his face, "Because you know I'm afraid of the dark"  
Monica sniffled.  
"Well... I don't want you to have nightmares. And I get a better look at you when you're naked"  
His body leaned forth in relief and embraced her fully. Spencer inhaled the fragrance of her hair. His heart seemed lighter as he said -  
"I am sorry"  
Monica wrapped her arms around his back. She said after a moment,  
"You've made me cry more in the last 24 hours, than I have cried in 31 years"  
"I am so sorry"  
"It's okay. You're not getting rid of me so easy", she hugged him tighter.  
Spencer smiled and closed his eyes, swaying a little with her in his arms. He knew it would make her happy to hear -  
"Would you like to stay over?"  
Monica withdrew and looked into his eyes.  
"Will I get the good loving?"  
His dimples showed.  
"As good as I can manage"  
She said,  
"That's more than good enough for me"  
Spencer kissed her and led her by the hand to his room. He said,  
"Come on. We will have to be quiet though"  
"You know damn well you are the loud one"  
 _"Sshh"_

* * *

A/N: I wanted to cater to the plot-preferring lot of you as well. Monica being a former spy marks the beginning of that plot. I didn't plan for this OC to be a spy. But as I wrote more and more one-shots, it was sort of a discovery. She is fun, well-read, sensible, had a great childhood. Where's her struggle? Why would a character like her be attracted to Dr. Spencer Reid? And it just clicked. _He_ is her normal. The cozy house, the beloved dog, the love for nature, the quiet simple life, and a sweet boyfriend – she treasures all that because she had to struggle for it. Normal is important to Monica, why? Because she hasn't had it for a long time. Suddenly, it made sense. I began dropping subtle hints about it around chapter 4, 'cause a dramatic reveal is of no use unless there is an established backstory.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this light-hearted chapter. It might be the only one of its kind for a while. What's coming isn't exactly pretty. Thank you for your readership. Your feedback shall bring me joy, as always.


	18. Remembrances

A/N: Many thanks to _poxyTraitors_ and _Guest_ for their kind reviews! I really appreciate it, guys. Glad you are enjoying this story. :D

* * *

 _"The past is never where you think you left it"_

 _\- Katherine Anne Porter_

* * *

They lay in bed, with arms around each other. Monica's cheek was resting on Spencer's chest that rose and fell with every breath he drew. She sighed in bliss, her fingers tracing the contours of his face. In the dim lighting, her biceps seemed more pronounced than his.  
"When I think objectively, it does make sense", Spencer said.  
She asked,  
"What does?"  
"You being a spy"  
She yawned, tired with her day's excursions.  
"You're still not over that?"  
He went on.  
"You're friendly and outgoing, but you don't have many friends. You usually keep your distance from people, to avoid them from getting involved in your life. You're highly organized, meticulous. Not naturally but because you have to be. You don't reveal much about yourself unless asked. That struck me as odd when we had just begun dating. Also, you try to... Monica?"  
She had rolled over and was pretending to be asleep. God knew she loved the man to pieces, but he just didn't know when to stop. He leaned over her.  
"Did you show any athletic interests in school?"  
Monica kept her eyes closed.  
"Monica?"  
"Junior gymnastics"  
"Yes, of course. It makes total sense"  
Spencer went on laying out her profile, talking right above her ear.  
"...and you're the youngest sibling. But it's hard to tell that about you unless you're around them. The level of maturity and..."  
Sighing, Monica resigned herself to the pillow talk. Spencer said,  
"You said you used guns. Did you undergo firearms training?"  
"Only for one assignment"  
"So you were an agent, not an intelligence officer"  
"Yep"  
"How many assignments did you do for them?"  
"That is classified information"  
"That many?"  
"No. And stop digging into it. Espionage isn't as glamorous as people think. You should know that. It was the shittiest job I ever had"  
He spoke after a moment.  
"If given the chance, would you do it again?"  
"I wouldn't"  
Monica faced him, leaning on her elbow. She looked deathly serious.  
"This fascination with my past stops here. There are no exciting tidbits there. It was hours and days of being holed up in places just to eavesdrop on some pertinent information. Mingling with horrible kinds of people, people who would do anything for a belief. And I'm not talking about Muslims or foreigners. These were people who would do monstrous things to other people only for the sake of a faith, a stupid idea rooted in myths and fiction. I got out of there because I couldn't take it anymore - the lies, the hiding in plain sight, the lack of anything resembling a normal life. You know why I chose botany? 'Cause I thought it would keep me away from people. I know you have seen the worst of humanity. To some extent, I have too. When required, I have broken bread with them, pretended to be one of them. I came back here to get a chance at a regular, normal life. My family still believes most of my work with the Security Service was desk work and they _should_ believe that"  
Monica warned him.  
"Not even my siblings' spouses know about this, Dr. Reid. It goes without saying that you can't tell anyone about my work with the Service, no matter what. I trust you with my life but these aren't just my secrets we are talking about. If word got back to them that I leaked info even about a mission that was executed ten years ago, they can put me in jail"  
His brown eyes seemed somber with understanding. Sooner or later, they always melted her. Monica laid her head on the pillow again and passed her hand through his hair.  
"The only reason I kept putting off trying to tell you was because I didn't want you to be party to this secret. It's a lonesome burden"  
"You have carried it for years"  
She almost smiled.  
"I have been trained to keep my troubles to myself. It's kind of a habit now"  
He raised an eyebrow.  
"You once drunk-called me at 11:00 PM because you saw a tree being cut"  
She felt his locks between her fingertips.  
"That wasn't really about a tree. I got news that day about my former colleague's death"  
Monica's tone remained neutral, unemotional.  
"She gave thirty years of her life to the Service. She liked cooking, you know, it was her favourite thing. Her death just... it got to me that day. I went over to Stephanie's, the one bar I know where I would be safe no matter how shitfaced I got. But alcohol wasn't enough. I had to hear your voice. And suddenly", a smile lit up her face, "The world wasn't such a bad place anymore. How could it be bad with you in it?"  
Spencer laid the palm of his hand on her cheek. Monica kissed it, held it.  
"This colleague... she was your mentor", he guessed.  
"She was my friend. She..."  
Monica stopped talking when her throat constricted. Her eyes glimmered with tears which she adamantly held back.  
"We all had codenames. Mine was Susanna, hers was Maya. It means compassion", Monica sniffed, still smiling, "She lived up to that name. My first field assignment, I was stationed in Northern Ireland on Christmas, with three other agents. Maya literally risked her life to get us all out long enough to make a phone call to our families. She didn't have to do that. They actually reprimanded her for doing that. But where others saw three trained agents on an important assessment mission, she saw three kids, away from home on the one day they weren't supposed to be"  
Spencer watched her struggling to maintain her composure. Before her face could regain that mask of indifference, he asked,  
"How did she die?"  
Monica took a second to answer.  
"Ovarian cancer. Woman survived wars and terrorist attacks but this... oh well"  
"I am sorry"  
A horrifying thought occurred at the back of his mind, of Monica facing wars and terrorist attacks, and not surviving, had she stayed with the MI5. He was grateful beyond measure that she had left them. She was out of that life. And now that she was into his, he couldn't stand the idea of her being in harm's way.  
"It's late. We should sleep", Monica turned on her back, "Wake me up when you do. In case she remembers what happened today, I want your Mom to see I'm okay. I'll make her some breakfast. Good night"  
He whispered,  
"Sometimes I forget how strong you are"  
Turning on her side, Monica pulled him tight into her embrace. Spencer placed his chin over her shoulder and held her throughout the night.

* * *

 ** _Weeks later -_**

Monica looked up from her computer when he approached. Spencer adjusted her glasses over the brim of her nose.  
"You actually look more like a professor now", he said.  
"Like a sexy one?"  
He smiled,  
"Yeah"  
Giving him a wink, she got back to her typing. He told her,  
"I'll call you if we have to go out of town. Have fun"  
"I almost forgot. Wait"  
Monica went into the kitchen and came out with a Tupperware container. She held it out to him.  
"The best batch. Tell Jennifer I said hi"  
She had made cookies the day before. Spencer opened the lid and examined her artwork. The supposed-to-be-smiley faces on the cookies looked like they were in excruciating pain. Monica shut the lid, almost on his fingers.  
"Hey, they taste great. You said so"  
Spencer nodded.  
"And they do have a certain shock element"  
She said,  
"I wouldn't expect you to understand art"  
Grinning, he put the container in his bag and turned to go. Monica said,  
"Sorry, one more thing. I won't be home in the afternoon. I'm meeting an old friend for lunch. So if I don't answer your call immediately, don't panic. And try not to make Garcia trace my phone"  
"That was one time! And you weren't answering..."  
She interrupted him with a kiss.  
"Good day, Dr. Reid", she said and took her seat again.  
He smiled, turned on his feet and walked out of her door.

In the BAU bullpen, Monica's cookies were a hit. Penelope took a fistful of them and gave Alvez a judgmental look. He spoke through a mouthful of cookie crumble,  
"What?"  
She glanced at his stomach,  
"You sure you should be eating sugary treats?"  
Luke frowned and looked down at his abdomen. Tara and Matt snickered at the exchange.  
"Don't worry, Luke. They are sugar free", Spencer said.  
"Hey, I work out every day!", Luke told them.  
Rossi went in for another.  
"If they are sugar free, don't mind me"  
"My boyfriend is terrible at baking. You're so lucky, Dr. Reid", the new agent, Heather, munched on a cookie.  
"Speaking of", Rossi said, "When do we get to meet your lady? You two have been together for what, a year?"  
Spencer mumbled,  
"Ten months, fourteen days"  
JJ smiled, careful not to mention to the group that she was the only one among them who had met Spencer's girlfriend.  
Rossi said,  
"Tell you what. Invite her to dinner. I'm hosting. In fact, you're all invited. How about this Saturday?"  
"Sounds good to me", Luke said.  
"Yeah. Saturday's good"  
Growing uncomfortable with the focus on him, Spencer said,  
"Monica's actually working on her book these days. Saturdays, she..."  
JJ interrupted his excuse,  
"Just ask her, Spence"  
"It's settled then", Rossi said.  
Garcia poked Reid.  
"Don't worry, brainiac. We will try to keep the embarrassing stories to a minimum"  
They dispersed.  
"What embarrassing stories?"  
Spencer called after the TA in a panic-stricken voice,  
"Garcia, what embarrassing stories?"

* * *

The man in the black blazer looked at his companion. His voice was melodious almost.  
"Is this not a bit too... hole in the wall?"  
Monica didn't take her eyes off the menu.  
"You like Chinese", she said.  
"That was ten years ago"  
"What, you're too refined for comfort food now?"  
He smiled.  
"And you remain a delight as always"  
Monica put down her menu and called for the waiter. They placed an order and waited for him to leave.  
"How is the family?", she asked him.  
"James starts school this year", he showed her a picture on his phone, "Look at the little rascal. Does he look mine?"  
Monica smiled at the picture of his little boy playing in the sun. The abundance of curly black hair reminded her of his mother. She said,  
"Thank goodness he took after his Mum"  
"I agree"  
Food arrived. Monica enjoyed the delicious aroma before digging in with her chopsticks.  
"We have known each other for how long, Susanna?"  
She answered,  
"Almost eleven years"  
"Then you know I am not the type to travel overseas just to catch up with an old friend"  
"I was hoping you would wait until dessert", she ate, "By the way, lunch is on you"  
He gave a wary smile. Holding a pair of chopsticks, he approached his plate of food.  
"We are tracking a rogue, one of our own. It's a joint venture between MI5 and 6. That's what brings me here"  
Monica kept on eating. She stuffed her mouth with a spicy shrimp.  
"Not as an assignment, but as a personal favour to me, I was hoping you could put to use some of your skills in helping us track down this person"  
"No"  
"Pardon?"  
"No", Monica said.  
Her friend grimaced.  
"She is active in Virginia right this moment. Killing important contacts, working for god knows who"  
"Like you said, I'm retired, Lawrence"  
"Innocent people are being murdered everyday..."  
"Not my problem. I'm not law enforcement. I'm not MI5 anymore. I'm just an ordinary citizen"  
"Do you expect me to believe you have grown so callous that you won't even consider it?"  
Monica laid down her chopsticks and placed her forearms on the table. She was smiling at her companion.  
"I was lucky to get out when I did. _I was lucky_. Here, I have my family. I have friends. I have a normal, sane life. I have a boyfriend whom I love more than anything in the world. And I'm writing a textbook on American plant varieties. If you think I would give up any of this - then you don't know me at all"  
She leaned back in her seat again and picked up the chopsticks. Lawrence watched her expression as he said,  
"We think it's Beatrice"  
Her head shot up to look him in the eye. Staring aghast at his face, Monica hoped he was lying. The colour faded from her cheeks, making her look older all of a sudden. She felt a familiar dread seize her heart with cold, sharp talons. Her toes twitched inside her shoe. The numbness that began in her fingertips reached up to her wrist.  
"We could use your help", Lawrence said, "You know she won't stop"  
Images from the past tormented her mind. Gore, blood, and that ringing laugh - it all combined to bombard her with memories. All she knew in that moment was that she had to get away. But she couldn't move. Her body seemed frozen in shock. A voice seemed to whisper in her mind -  
 _'What if I find your Dr. Reid? Wouldn't that be just peachy, honey?'_  
Monica pushed her chair back and stood up. She grabbed her bag while Lawrence looked around at the people.  
"You're making a scene..."  
Monica told him in precise tones,  
"You stay away from me. Stay the fuck away from me"  
She got out of the restaurant as fast as she could. Scanning the road on both sides, she crossed it and walked to the bus stop.

Monica got off at four different stops and took three different buses until she was sure she wasn't being followed. When she was certain, she went to her brother George's place instead of her own.  
Her nightmare was only beginning.


	19. Spies

A/N: My heartfelt thanks to everyone reading the story and all those who take the time to review. Your feedback matters and shapes the tone of the story. If you have any suggestions for improvement, let me know.

* * *

 _"I am running away from danger -_ _  
_ _I am flying before I fall;_ _  
_ _I am going because with heart and soul_ _  
_ _I love you - that is all"_

 _\- Ella Wheeler_

* * *

The BAU were studying a series of recent murders in the States. At the round table, Emily said,  
"All different MO's. How do we even know they are connected?"  
Tara pointed out,  
"There is one common thread. All of these, at first glance, look like suicides or accidents. If autopsies hadn't been performed on the fourth and seventh victim, no one would have suspected foul play"  
Luke said,  
"Yeah, but this doesn't look like the work of a serial killer. They are too random. No connection between the victims, no discernible motive. Except for Kalen Burdeaux and Samantha Taylor, all others are mostly blue collar workers"  
Rossi said,  
"Hate to sound like a bureaucrat, but do we even have jurisdiction?"  
"The killer crossed state lines. It's ours", Emily said.  
Rossi argued,  
"But we will have to prove first that this is the same killer"  
Occupied with his own thoughts, Dr. Spencer Reid compared lists of addresses of the victims. He went through the names of their next of kin.  
"Garcia, can you pull up the map for Virginia?"  
She did. Spencer walked to the screen and began pinpointing locations on it. His team watched in silence, like witnessing a mad scientist at work.  
"The first known victim we have is Alex McCartney. He worked at the construction site near the CIA's base in Langley. Now that's a long shot but the second victim, Rita Munõz, taught at Woodridge High, the public school in Quantico with a significant number of children of law enforcement officers. Samantha Taylor had a desk job with the IRS. And Merriam Clarke was a housewife, but her husband works for the Bureau"  
"You mean", JJ said, "All the victims from Virginia had some connection to the US government?"  
"Exactly. I think we will find the same connection for victims from other states. It's not an obvious connection but it's the only one we have"  
Matt asked,  
"But why would a serial killer target people who are somehow connected with the US government?"  
Reid said,  
"We have seen this type of killer before. There is no psychosexual motive behind the murders. They are just murders. The UnSub does his best to make the deaths look as normal as possible. This is a very specific type of killer, one we rarely come across"  
Heather suggested,  
"Angel of Death?"  
Emily's voice echoed the concern etched over all of their faces. She said,  
"Assassin"

After the briefing, Spencer returned to his desk in the bullpen. His phone rang. He saw the unknown number but answered anyway.  
"Hey Doc, it's me"  
"Monica, where are you? I have been trying to call you all day", he said.  
"I lost my phone. I feel so stupid"  
"Wow", he shook his head.  
"I know, all right? I had it when I was talking to my friend but I lost it somewhere around 3 o'clock"  
"Did you call the phone company and try tracking it?"  
"I did. They say its signal is turned off, which means someone either switched off the phone or took out its tracker. Stupid, modern, tech savvy thieves!"  
"What are you going to do?"  
"I'm going to have to get a new phone. I'm going to change my number too. My old colleagues at Mary Washington, most of them still have it. I can't block them all. So this way, I'll get rid of them forever"  
"Okay. Did you at least have a data backup?"  
"I think so. I'll check in the morning. By the way, I'm staying over at George's tonight. So if you want to drop in for a surprise booty call, don't"  
Spencer asked,  
"Why are you staying at your brother's?"  
Monica whispered,  
"He had a really bad breakup this morning. Guy's a mess. I'm just going to keep him company till he gets out of bed. I'll call you when I get home"  
"Okay"  
"How's work today? You still here?"  
"Yeah. We're dealing with something local right now"  
"There's a serial killer at large in Quantico?"  
"No. Virginia. And some other states"  
"Your garden variety sexual sadist?"  
"More like an assassin. It's nothing to be worried about though. Not yet"  
"If you say so"  
Spencer leaned back in his chair.  
"How did lunch with your friend go?"  
"It was okay. We caught up on old times and stuff. How did the BAU like my cookies?"  
He smiled.  
"They loved them"  
"Told you they would"  
"Rossi has invited us to dinner. The team, you and me"  
"They want to meet me?"  
"They were pretty insistent about it"  
"Well, this day has been long coming. You couldn't have hidden me forever"  
"I wasn't hiding you"  
"Yeah, right. When is the dinner?"  
"This Saturday. Is that all right with you?"  
"Yep. Now I just have to find a scandalous dress to wear"  
He grinned.  
"I know what you're doing"  
"I'm thinking - crimson, bloody red, low cut, tight. Like really tight. I will wear my busty bra. And no sleeves. Makeup so dark..."  
Smiling and holding the phone, he endured Monica's futile teasing. It erased some ugliness out of his day.

* * *

Standing by herself in a dark alley, Monica didn't feel the slightest bit of fear. She was armed with her old Glock 19. And God help whoever tried to attack her in her current state of mind.  
"Good evening", Lawrence came to her.  
The night shrouded their forms in darkness. Monica asked him,  
"Is the FBI investigating the murders?"  
"We tried to keep them away, but the Americans aren't exactly known for their cooperation"  
"Did you try getting the CIA involved?"  
"That wouldn't fare well for us"  
"How?"  
"The people she has been hired to kill", Lawrence said, "They are ours"  
"How did she get her hands on info about British spies in the US?"  
"Probably through her employer"  
"You think it's the Americans?"  
"No. Someone who wants to ruin our relationship with them"  
"A very healthy relationship"  
"Did you call me here for a lecture on morality?"  
"No. I'm just wondering about the job. You only have to catch an American - who was trained by the MI6 - on American soil, while she is getting rid of British spies in the US system"  
"Don't waste my time, Susanna"  
"I'm offering to serve as bait"  
Lawrence stared at her for a long moment. He asked,  
"Are you suicidal?"  
"Only when I'm drunk"  
"On the off-chance that she does come after you..."  
"She will. You know our history"  
"As I was saying, if anything happens to you, we will not claim any responsibility. You are working strictly off the ledger"  
"Noted. I will draw her out but only on one crucial condition"  
"Name it"  
Monica said,  
"She doesn't get anywhere near the Behavioural Analysis Unit of FBI. They don't get anywhere near her. Throw them off the trail. Destroy evidence. Do what you can. But you keep them away from each other"  
"You have a contact in that Unit?"  
"That's none of your business"  
"Who are you protecting?"  
"No one you know"

* * *

 _ **Tuesday -**_

Monica returned home in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark out. She kept watch for forty-five minutes before approaching her own home. Inside, she pulled up the floorboard by her bed. Her go-box was as she had left it there, almost two years ago. Retrieving the necessities, she put them in a bag and sealed up the floor again.  
She watched herself in the mirror while washing her hands. How much had the face changed since Beatrice had seen it last? Remarkably, she could say. But the eyes would help her. She made a mental note to buy the requisites for her assignment. When she looked up in the mirror again, there were tears in those eyes. The person who looked back at her was unsure, terrified. Monica reminded her,  
"Do it for him"

At the FBI headquarters in Quantico, the BAU were baffled by the origins of their victims. Luke said,  
"These are ordinary people, clean records. It doesn't make any sense"  
Garcia said,  
"I'm still digging as much as digitally possible into their backgrounds. Other than Kalen Burdeaux, they are all just boring, normie American muggles"  
"What about Kalen Burdeaux?", Tara asked.  
"He was British. He came here for a semester at NYU, got hooked on American culture, didn't leave"  
"Well, that's a dead end", Rossi said.  
Emily put away the file in her hand. She sighed.  
"We need to put this on the back burner for now. There's a grave robber in Maine who has escalated his fetishes onto live people. Bangor PD asked for us. Wheels up in forty"  
Rossi said as Emily left the room,  
"Let's hope we catch this guy by Friday. I have a special meal to cook on Saturday night"  
Spencer ignored the looks they threw him and walked out of the briefing room. He got a call on his phone before reaching his desk.  
"Just checking in. Hi", Monica said.  
"Hi", Spencer smiled, "How's your day going?"  
"Don't ask. George is in the crying stage right now"  
"Sorry to hear that. Is he going to be okay?"  
"He better be. I have half a mind to put a pillow on his face when he sleeps"  
He changed the topic.  
"Anyway... I am glad you called. We're going to Maine"  
"New case?"  
"Yeah. I am hoping to get back by Friday"  
"Okay. Be careful"  
"Have you decided what you're going to wear on Saturday?"  
"Hm. Do you remember that nightdress I wore the first time we had sex?"  
He grinned.  
"Yes?"  
"That and high heels. How's that?"  
"I don't mind. But I was talking about dinner", he looked around before saying, "Not about when we get back to my place"  
"Oooh, we're gonna go back to your place, are we? And what are we going to do? Play cheat poker?"  
"I...", he couldn't stop smiling, "I had other things in mind"  
"Such as?"  
"You're not _that_ innocent. You know what I mean"  
"I don't know what you mean. You're going to have to tell me _exactly_ what you intend to do to me on Saturday night"  
"Monica, I'm at work"  
"You started it!"  
He laughed.  
"And I'm finishing it. I have to go now"  
"Ugh. Fine. Be safe"  
"I will. Bye"  
"Bye. I love you"  
She hung up. Spencer stared at his phone. It was the first time Monica had said 'I love you' to him on a call. She never did that.  
 **Never.**  
Knowing full well what memory that could trigger in him, she purposefully avoided saying those words on phone. And now that she had said it, he felt a familiar sense of impending doom.

Hanging up, Monica exhaled a long breath. Tonight was the night she would step into the belly of the beast. It felt like the last night of her life.  
She practised once in the mirror.  
"Hello. I am Amelia Kirkham"  
No. Softer accent. More posh. She tried again.  
"Hello. I am..."  
Perfect.  
"...Amelia Kirkham. I booked a room through your website?"  
The receptionist smiled at her.  
"Just a minute, ma'm. I'll check"  
"Thank you"  
In the next few minutes, she was checking into her room and tipping the bell boy. She listened by the door. When sure that his steps had died away, Monica locked the door from within. She pulled off her jacket and the scarf around her neck, adjusted her clothes and moved to the balcony. The cold blast of wind hit her as soon as she opened the sliding door. Monica stepped out, leaned against the railing, and watched over the city. Like a lizard brain, her ingrained instincts seemed to be screaming danger. She was in direct line of sight of any sniper or shooter who could use a gun. But she needed to be seen. She needed Beatrice to see her, wherever she was.

* * *

 _"If you knew what was going to happen, if you knew everything that was going to happen next - if you knew in advance the consequences of your own actions - you'd be doomed"_

 _\- Margaret Atwood_


	20. Destinations

A/N: The perspective in this chapter keeps shifting from back and forth between Spencer and Monica. I hope that won't be too confusing. It's to maintain an exciting pace about the chapter. Anyway, thank you for taking the time to review, read, follow, and favourite this little story. Especially the kind _Guest_ whose feedback motivates me to update this story regularly. Thank you!

* * *

 _"What's coming will come and we'll just have to meet it when it does"_

 _\- J. K. Rowling_

* * *

Three days of sashaying around as a British spy at all of Beatrice's known locations finally paid off. Monica was in a taxi heading back to her hotel when Lawrence called.  
"Sighting confirmed. It's her. She's entering a back door to the hotel as we speak", he said, "Good job. Now get the hell out of Richmond"  
She didn't have to be told twice.

* * *

He felt embarrassed about how excited his team was to meet Monica. They teased him about it. Times like these, he missed Derek. He would have loved her.  
 _"This is Monica Knight and her imaginary friends. Leave a message!"_  
Spencer said,  
"Hey, I just got back. Are you home yet? I, uh, I was thinking I could crash at your place tonight. Let me know when you get this, okay? Bye"  
It was purely coincidence that he hadn't heard from Monica the last three days. It had nothing to do with the insane gut feeling he had that something was about to go horribly wrong. Right?  
Right.

* * *

"Could you take me to Main Street Station instead?", Monica said to the driver, "My sister said she will bring my bags directly there"  
"All right"  
It was over. Done.  
She almost cried in relief. But crying would have to wait. What she needed right now more than anything was to see the man she loved.  
 _'I am going home'_ , she thought cheerfully, _'I am going home to him'_

* * *

Monica wouldn't mind. Would she? No. Maybe she would. No, no.  
Spencer tried to reason with himself as he drove. She had given him a key. That meant he could come and go as he pleased. And maybe if she was still at George's, he could do something nice for her. Vacuum her floors, fluff her pillows, make her breakfast. She had to be back by morning anyway. When he saw her, he would hug her. Touch her and kiss her.  
He groaned with ripe sexual frustration.  
Being a cerebral creature, Spencer didn't like this kind of unexpected arousal. But with her meaningful kisses, her eager touches and her blazing looks, Monica had ruined him.  
He hoped to God she was home. All he needed in that moment was to see she was okay.  
Then take her to bed until she was coiling her legs around his hips and calling him Spencer.

* * *

At the train station, Monica bought the newest Stephen King book. Her eyes pored over the pages in an easy motion, lazy almost. And each page she read made her journey feel shorter. It was as if everything she did was getting her closer to the safety of Spencer's arms. The thought put a smile on her face.

* * *

Spencer sighed in dismay. He locked her door behind him. Monica's house was empty. Maybe she would be back early in the morning.  
Putting away his bag, Spencer Reid walked to her kitchen. He carried _chicken tikka_ for two in a takeout bag in his right hand. Seemed to him he would be eating it alone.

* * *

When she was an hour away from Quantico, the phone Lawrence had given her rang again.  
Not a good sign.  
Especially when she was holding it right above the toilet. But maybe something had happened. Senses on full alert, Monica accepted the call.  
 _"You"_  
That honeyed voice, even sweeter than she remembered, chilled her right down to the bone. Beatrice said,  
"You, you, you. How rude you are, Susanna. I come to see you and you try to trap me. Again. Did you really think I would let you do it to me a second time?"  
Monica held her breath. She tried to focus on what the maniac was saying, but all she could think about was Spencer.  
 _'Let her kill me before she gets to him. Please'_  
"You know, honey, you have been really shy around me. I don't bite. Well", Beatrice giggled, "I kind of bit Lawrence's ear off in our little scrape..."  
Monica winced.  
"...but I said an Ave over his body. And the others'. I'm sure our old employers will be pleased to find them like that. But enough about those nasty boys, honey. I want to meet you. How about we do a face to face? It's been long coming, don't you think?"  
Beatrice's voice took on a teasing tone.  
"I guess I'm going to have to meet your family too. Don't worry, I'll find them. Did you get married, honey? Do you have babies? Oh, I'll bet they have your big, beautiful eyes! Aunt Bea will just have to come and see for herself, won't she?"  
Monica's voice was a strangled whisper. She said,  
"Please..."  
"No, no. Don't beg, honey! I'll find you and I'll set us up a nice girly date. You would like that, honey, wouldn't you?"  
"Beatrice", her heart pounded in fear, "I was doing my job. It wasn't personal"  
"Aw! You know I take everything personally, honey. It's not your fault", Beatrice sounded happier, "Now, enough chitchat. I have to go wash some blood from under my nails. It was real neat catching up with you, Susanna. I'll see you soon! Buh-bye!"  
Monica's hands shook as she dropped the phone in the toilet and pulled the flush. There was not much for her to do then, but sit down and despair.

* * *

 _"Herr God, Herr Lucifer_ _  
_ _Beware_ _  
_ _Beware._ _  
_ _Out of the ash_ _  
_ _I rise with my red hair_ _  
_ _And I eat men like air"_

 _\- Sylvia Plath_


	21. Souvenirs

A/N: This is a whopper of a chapter in terms of word count (just that?). Gear up for some Spencer loving. I was giggling all the while I wrote that scene.  
Much of my gratitude to the new followers, frequent readers, and the lovely _Guest_ who took the time to review the last chapter. Let me know what y'all think of this one. Thanks in advance!

* * *

 _"She was ready to deny the existence of space and time rather than admit that love might not be eternal"_

 _\- Simone de Beauvoir_ "

* * *

"Granny, it's me - Monica", she said into the phone.  
"Monica! Hello! My darling, how are you?"  
"I'm fine. How are you and Grandpapa?"  
"Quite well, dear. We were just sitting down to a game of chess. What time is it there?"  
"It's about 8:00 AM. Granny... I need your help"  
"What's the matter? Are you all right?"  
"I am", Monica sounded weak, "Do you remember Beatrice? From my Security Service days?"  
"Beatrice? Yes, yes, that loon who went rogue. What about her?"  
"Granny, she is here", her voice broke, "In Virginia"  
"Oh no"  
"She killed some more people yesterday. And now she is after me. She's promised she'll find my loved ones and she's going to kill them all"  
"But you can't let that happen!"  
"I know. That's why I need your help. I need you to get everyone out of here. Mom, Dad, Audrey, Cathy, Max - all of them. George is in Botswana, and he will be there for another month. But the rest of them... please"  
"Well, I... I'll see what I can do about it. How much time do you have?"  
"I don't know"  
"Then we will be quick. But what about you, love? You and your boyfriend?"  
"I'll find an excuse to stay back. I don't want to let him out of my sight. If anything were to happen", she said, "I need to make sure I'm with him until the end"  
"Don't you think you should tell him what is going on?"  
Monica sobbed.  
"I know"  
"Now, darling, don't cry. You let Granny take care of everything. Do you need me to contact the agency?"  
"Yes. Please"  
"All right. But don't you cry anymore, muffin. You will need your wits about you now more than ever. Don't forget what you're fighting for"  
"Yes, Granny"  
"Cheer up now. You go home to your sweetheart and watch over him. Granny has your back"  
"Thank you, Granny. I love you"  
"I love you too, sweetpea"

* * *

Groggy from a lack of sleep, Spencer stood in Monica's bathroom, brushing his teeth. He had started to worry about her. It was almost 9:00 AM. She should have been back by now. Or called, at least.  
 _'Maybe I should call George'_  
He supposed the number she had called him from, after losing her phone, might be her brother's. With that thought, Spencer put away his toothbrush and stepped out of her bathroom. He stopped in his tracks on hearing movement coming from the drawing room. Hoping to God it was Monica, he rushed to the room.

It was.  
She was putting down a bag by the couch, watching his own placed in a corner. Monica turned to him. The moment their eyes met, he was filled with a staggering wave of relief. She was fine.  
 _'Thank God'_  
"This is a nice surprise", she smiled.  
He had her in his arms before she could blink. Monica gave a nervous laugh.  
"You okay?"  
He could feel her breasts pressed against his chest. Spencer pulled her even closer.  
"I missed you"  
"I missed you too", Monica said, "But you sure you're all right? You don't usually hug me first"  
Oh, he needed to do more than that.  
"Why are you looking at me like that?"  
Monica had a smile on her face and he stood gazing at it, mesmerised.  
"I...", Spencer licked his lips, "I missed you really bad"  
She laughed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  
"Doc, it's only been four days"  
"Felt like a lifetime"  
His hands seemed to have a mind of their own. They caressed her face, tucked her hair back, helped her out of her jacket. Spencer's right hand glided up and down her waist. The fabric of her shirt got caught in his touch and bunched up. He let his hand slip lower against her bare skin. He sighed - Monica felt just as soft as ever. She twitched a little against his hand but he couldn't stop touching her.  
Spencer stood there, trying to reign in his arousal.  
"Hey. You know I'm ticklish there"  
When he looked into her eyes, he wondered if self-control was a myth. How could he resist that tender look, those lips he knew to be sweet?  
With his other hand, Spencer cupped Monica's face and leaned forth. Their noses slightly brushed against each other. Tentative, careful even, he kissed her.  
It was the "I missed you" kiss, the "I am so glad you're back" kiss. Monica's lips against his felt right, supple... how he had missed that.  
Spencer opened his eyes, pulling back from her a little. He nipped Monica's lower lip, kissing her again.  
Touching his forehead to hers, he didn't care how desperate he sounded. It was a pleading whisper.  
"I need you"  
Hazel eyes searched green eyes for reluctance. But they were just full of love and wonder. Monica said,  
"Really?"  
Feeling impulsive, much unlike himself, Spencer took Monica by the hand and led her to the bedroom.

She didn't have a moment to speak again before he was on top of her, gentle yet determined. He kissed her as he always did, but it wasn't enough anymore. She could tell - he seemed to need more. Surprised, Monica grabbed the back of his head as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Her head fell back against the pillow as Spencer's kisses became more fervent. Monica's hands roamed down his back and pulled him close. He stopped kissing her mouth only to travel downwards. He unhooked her bra with practised ease and kissed what it revealed. Monica lay dumbstruck underneath him, stunned by the ferocity of his want. And all she could think as Spencer made her moan was -  
 _'I won't let her get to you. I won't'_

His mind was clouded with testosterone and pure desire. Spencer heard Monica gasp as his teeth scraped her nipples. Sucking on them, releasing them, his mouth kissed its way down to her navel. As if out of muscle memory, his hands undid her belt. Monica raised her hips and helped him take off the rest of her clothes.  
Before being with her, he would have had a panic attack at a similar sight. But she had eased him into lovemaking - slowly, tenderly, and patiently. Those were feelings he wished to return.  
He stroked her with his long slender fingers. Touching her there, it fuelled his arousal. He had read about some fingering techniques the night before while trying to cope with her being away. As he applied that knowledge, Monica shuddered. Spencer curved his finger and she grabbed his hand, panting.  
"I need you inside me right now. Right now. Just..."  
He discarded his robe as she tugged at his boxers. Spencer pulled them the rest of the way down, kicked them off his feet. Skin to skin, they revelled in the warmth. Monica put her arms around his neck. She looked so alluring he had to kiss her again. He spread her inner thighs, massaging them.  
"Don't tease me", she breathed against his lips.  
He was afraid he would... _combust_ on contact. But he knew how to prolong biological functions. Monica lying naked underneath him just made things harder.  
In a sure, swift stroke, he was inside her. She made a guttural noise that was music to his ears. Her hands were holding onto his back. Her legs were coiled around his hips. He gave one cautious thrust and Monica groaned his name.  
"Spencer..."  
 _'Oh dear god...'_  
It spurred him on. He moved, she quivered. It was one of his favourite sensations in the world, being inside Monica, feeling her tighten herself around him.  
God damn it, she was exquisite.  
"Spencer oh my g..."  
The initial stirrings began and it felt good. So good he thought he would lose his mind. He groaned and gasped. Her name, her name.  
"Monica..."  
His body moved in a steady rhythm with hers. He strived with each movement of his body to show her how much he loved her, craved her. The universe was only two people in that moment - him and her.  
Spencer almost howled when she came, pulsating around him. It didn't take more than her climactic outburst to make him come undone. Her name rose from his lungs and out of his lips. And in that moment of pure ecstasy, he was an explosion - a cosmic burst of stars, _immortal_.  
He trembled, jerking forward. Monica pulled him closer as he spent himself inside her.  
"Yes... stay. Mm"  
Her fingers sifted through his hair. She held him until he collapsed on her chest, elated.

When the sun rose above Monica's bedroom window, it found them lying naked in bed together. Spencer was examining her breasts, playing.  
"I know", she said, "The right one's a little smaller"  
He kissed them in turn.  
"They are perfect"  
"You're perfect"  
"I'm not"  
"Oh yeah?"  
Monica traced his jawline. She said,  
"The fairest in all the land, one of the greatest minds in the world, a heart of gold, a will forged out of suffering, and can make even a revolver look sexy - that's pretty perfect to me"  
Spencer smiled and drew symbols on her abdomen with his fingers. She was always a little poetic after sex.  
"You didn't wait for me to shower. You used your tongue. You didn't even wait to put on a condom", she said.  
"So?"  
"Did something happen while I was away?"  
His writings reached the underside of her breasts.  
"Yeah", he said.  
"What was it?"  
"I realised you have turned me into a primate, a slave to his basic urges"  
Under his fingers, her body shook just a bit with the little laugh.  
"These 'basic urges' - did you think, for one second, that you could satisfy them without me?"  
"No", he gave it a thought, "I had to have you. It was almost like a need"  
"Then congratulations. You were just hot for your girlfriend. Nothing more"  
He didn't know how to argue with that. Monica said,  
"What are you writing?"  
He smiled and his index finger kept moving along her ribcage.  
"What, it's a secret?"  
Spencer beamed.  
"I just put a spell on you"  
"What for?"  
"Now you will never be able to spend the night away from me"  
He finished drawing the last symbol and looked at her face. Monica's eyes were brimming with love.  
"It's nothing short of torture for me", she said, "...to be away from you"  
He hadn't realised she would take his joke so seriously. Holding her by the waist, Spencer said,  
"Your brother needed you. I understand"  
"I love you"  
He gave her his boyish smile.  
"I know"  
He kept looking into her eyes, fascinated by how the flecks of amber in them formed a dazzling symmetry.  
"How could someone like you love someone like me?"  
"There's no one like you, Dr. Reid"  
Monica's words touched his heart. As she watched him with longing, Spencer sensed he should try to uplift her serious mood.  
"Rossi is excited about tonight. They all are. Tara even drew a psychological profile for you"  
"What does it say?"  
He gave a sheepish smile.  
"It was a gag. She only wrote "crazy about Spencer Reid" on it"  
Monica turned on her side and put her arm around him.  
"Well, that part is certainly true"  
"Do you know what you're going to wear?"  
"For the dinner, or for when we go back to your place?"  
He gave her a smirk, tweaking her nose.  
"For dinner"  
"I may have something in mind"

* * *

Spencer put a hand to his mouth, pinning his jaw in place. Monica gave him a 360° view by twirling. She looked just what he wanted his friends to see - fun, bright, smart, beautiful.  
"Is it cool enough for the BAU?"  
He nodded. The green dress reached her knees. She said,  
"I matched it with your sweater vest"  
"It's..."  
He tried to come up with the perfect word. But "perfect" was the only word he could think of.  
"You... you look..."  
She smiled and reminded him.  
"We have to leave now if we don't want to be late"  
He seemed to recover.  
"Yeah. Yeah. I'll, um, I'll start the car"  
Spencer watched her grab the bottle of Chardonnay from her fridge and led the way out to her car.

Of all the days, he was paying attention to her every whim and fancy. The morning sex, the afternoon shopping, the evening spent getting ready - she could tell he was happy.  
Spencer held her hand upon his lap as he drove. His hand was soft as ever, protective even. Monica watched him closely. She couldn't think of one moment throughout the day where she could have told him, come clean. All his smiles made her weak.  
"You like this song, right?"  
"Yes"  
She had no idea what song Spencer was referring to. He turned up the volume and Madonna seemed to warn her through the radio -  
 _"Say goodbye. Say goodbye. Sayyy goodbyyye"_  
Monica plastered a smile on her face anyway and hoped dinner would be over soon. Spencer deserved to know about the storm headed their way.

* * *

"Hi. I'm Monica. I'm sure he has told you nothing about me"  
She was a pro. Reid was admiring Monica's social skills, standing by her side on Rossi's lawn. She charmed the profilers in a matter of minutes.  
"I know my man has his quirks, but he can't be _that_ bad"  
Jokes were made, mostly about him. Monica knew when to join in the laughter and when to defend him. Stories were exchanged about the Boy Wonder aka Gorgeous Grey Matter. Food was shared. There were smiles all around.  
"How did you manage to get this one away from his books?", Rossi asked Monica.  
"What's wrong with books?"  
"Wait. Now I see what happened here"  
More laughter. Spencer mostly kept quiet, letting Monica handle the conversation. She didn't hog the spotlight though. He appreciated that.  
"I'm sitting there, and he goes", she mimicked him, "You actually bought that thing?"  
Luke said over the laughter,  
"Hey, not cool, man"  
Reid said,  
"You haven't seen that dog"  
"Excuse me? His name is Bubbly", Monica said.  
The women "aww"d. Spencer shook his head. He watched Monica laugh along with his friends. It didn't matter if they were laughing at him. He was content, listening to the sound of pure happiness. Monica was the one who had brought that sound back into his life. For that - for her - he was grateful.

They decided on their way back home to spend the remainder of the night at her place. Full of good food and a little intoxicated, Spencer readily agreed. He intended to fall asleep with his head on her lap, watching the Cosmos rerun on TV.  
"You have the coolest colleagues"  
"I know", he said.  
"Do you think they liked me?"  
"What's there not to like?"  
Smiling, she took his arm and they walked to her door. Spencer saw something weird on her doorstep.  
"Hey, what's that?"  
Monica peered at it. He knew her eyesight hadn't been the best lately without her glasses.  
"It looks like a fake human ear"  
He bent to pick it up. She warned him.  
"Don't touch it"  
"It's a gag..."  
With an uncouth exclamation, he jumped back. The ear was real. It was sticky and elastic and... human.  
"Monica, call 911. Monica?"  
He turned to find her covering her mouth and fighting back tears. Spencer was upon her in an instant.  
"It's okay. Don't look at it. Look at me"  
"It's his"  
"What?"  
Monica whimpered,  
"It's Lawrence's. She found me. Now she's going to find you"  
"What are you talking about? Who?"  
He had never seen her so scared. Her fear seemed to latch onto him.  
"Monica, who are you talking about?"  
She just stood there, looking as pale as death.

* * *

"My grandparents, the Flemings, worked as spies for the Crown during World War II. I was born in England, while my parents were going through a separation. I spent most of my summers there in Suffolk. When I was in my senior year at Oxford, I was meeting a friend, who worked for the GCHQ, and I got approached by MI5. It was quite the surprise. But I had my grandparents' blessing. My parents were back together and living in the States then, so they didn't really know where I worked. The official cover was that I worked as a secretary at the Ministry of Defence. I was trained in counterintelligence, espionage. I already spoke Russian and Welsh, thanks to my grandfather. The agency taught me Irish. I spent almost a year in the office before they put me out in the field. Most of my work was about gathering intelligence on disturbances in Northern Ireland, sometimes Wales or white supremacist groups in Britain.  
I met Beatrice for the first time during a mission briefing. It was for a joint venture between MI5 and MI6. She was a decorated officer. Beautiful, sweet, charming - not just your average spy. She was everything the rest of us wanted to be. She specialised in terminating and neutralising potent threats. That's the official way of saying she was an assassin. And from what I heard, she never disappointed.  
A few years later, I was stationed in Stockholm one summer. Me and my handler, Maya, we got news that Beatrice had killed one of her agency's psychologists and three MI6 officers. She had taken off with encrypted info about the agency's important assets. She would have spotted any of them from a mile away. But it was hoped that she wouldn't recognise anyone from MI5. I and two of my co-workers were part of the team trying to find Beatrice. Took us four months but we finally had a location. I was the one who called our MI6 teammate. They closed in. I arrogantly stayed behind to witness her arrest. But, Beatrice remembered me. She knew at once it was I who had alerted them of her location. She promised to meet me again to get even. I didn't put much store by it, confident as I was that her agency would take care of her. That was until she broke out of custody a week later... and I saw pictures of what she had done, how she had killed the doctor and her colleagues, and the officers guarding her. Just... massacres. Nothing like her methodical work when she used to be sane. I am not ashamed to say that it was enough to make me quit. With my grandparents' influence, I was able to get a retirement, an honourable discharge of sorts. I spent about five years of my life, getting away from Beatrice.  
The friend I had lunch with the other day, his name was Lawrence. He came to see me because he thought he could use my help trying to locate Beatrice, who was working in Virginia. I refused. I told him not to contact me again. But then you and I talked on the phone and, I had to make sure that you weren't investigating the murders she had committed. So I met him to confirm that the BAU wasn't involved, but it was. And I couldn't risk her finding out about you. She would have. If she knew who was on her trail, she would have found out every single thing about your team. And when she would have made the connection between you and me... she would have hurt you first. I couldn't let that happen"  
Spencer watched her tear-stained face. He suppressed all emotion until he could know all there was to know.  
"What did you do?"  
"I told Lawrence that I would help him, but only if he kept Beatrice away from your team"  
"You asked him to interfere with a federal investigation?"  
"I did what I had to do to protect you. It would have worked. It should have worked. I was in Richmond, trying to draw her out. She came after me but I wasn't there. Lawrence called me and said they had eyes on her. He told me to get out of Richmond. I took the train. I was so happy it was over. But then... when I was going to get rid of the cellphone we used to keep contact, I got a call on it from Lawrence's phone", Monica said, "It was her. She has promised to come after me and everyone I love"  
"Your family?"  
"They are safe, at my grandparents' in England. They all think my grandma is dying and it's her last wish to see them. I told them I had to stay behind here because you were injured. They bought it. And now Beatrice knows who I am, where I live. She probably knows about you too"  
Monica kept looking out of the window. The shadows from her trees outside heightened the elfin beauty of her face. On any other night, it would have drawn Spencer to her. But now all it inspired within him was anger.

He was supposed to be vigilant now, aware of his surroundings all the time, constantly looking over his shoulder. When he got out of prison, he had resolved he would never let anybody make him live like that again. But that's how it would have to be now. And of all the people in the world, Monica was the one who had brought it on him.  
"You lied to me", he said.  
She wouldn't reply.  
"I didn't mind you keeping secrets from me as long as they were yours but this...", he struggled to speak, "It brings us back to that same question. How am I supposed to trust you?"  
She said,  
"I was only trying to protect..."  
Spencer stood up, and turned his back on her. He had to drown out her voice. Rage coursed through his veins as he paced the floor.  
It was a betrayal.  
And it hurt thrice as much because it had come from her. He didn't want that kind of pain, was too tired of life to endure it again.

Though the mere thought of it made his eyes sting with tears, Spencer knew what he had to do. He turned to Monica. His voice was that of a man defeated.  
"When this woman is caught", he said, "...you and I are done. I am not going to spend my life with someone I don't trust anymore. Someone who lies to me and tries to manipulate my life how she thinks fit"  
Spencer kept his eyes averted, hoping to avoid her pitiful look. But Monica didn't turn to him. She kept looking out of the window, with tears streaming down her face.  
"I love you - it's the only explanation I have for what I did", she said, "But I understand"  
He risked a look at her again, not believing her to give in so easily. Monica turned her back to him and wiped her tears away. He had half a mind to throw himself upon her and forget all that had transpired.  
Reason prevailed.  
"I have to go inform my team. You will be contacted about the next course of action as soon as our Unit Chief makes a decision. Do you need protective detail?"  
She shook her head with her back still to him. Spencer watched her for another moment. And with feet that felt heavier than lead, he walked out.

* * *

 _"Here now, forevermore, our lives must part._  
 _My path leads there, and yours another way._  
 _What shall we do with this fond love, dear heart?_  
 _It grows a heavier burden day by day"_

 _\- Ella Wheeler_


	22. Teams

A/N: I apologise about the late update. I didn't even realize people were still reading this. Then I received an email alert about _sonnetStar_ 's review on the last chapter and remembered. Thank you so much!

* * *

 _"God, how I ricochet between certainties and doubts"_

 _\- Sylvia Plath_

* * *

 _ **Next Morning -**_

Reid rushed into work as fast as he could, making sure he wasn't being followed. Garcia had told him over the phone that Emily needed everyone in urgently. Now that the night of anguish had passed, he forced his mind to think like the FBI agent he was, not the man who had broken up with Monica. He couldn't waste more time pondering about her.  
The woman he had fallen in love with, the one who had betrayed his trust.  
He couldn't let himself wonder if he was capable of being without her. He needed his mind at its best.

At the BAU office, his teammates were already sitting at the round table. As Spencer took his seat, a tall, older man entered the briefing room. Emily introduced him to the others.  
"This is Thomas Cummings, senior officer with the British Secret Intelligence Service"  
Garcia whispered to Reid,  
"MI6. He is James Bond"  
"...and this is Agent Heather Roane", Emily finished with the introductions, "Please, take a seat"  
"Thank you", Cummings took the seat adjacent to Emily's.  
She said,  
"We have been working on the murders concealed as suicides and accidents in the states of Virginia, Washington, and New York. Mr. Cummings here..."  
"Tom is fine", he interrupted her with a smile.  
Emily glanced from him to her team.  
"The SIS has for us definite evidence regarding the identity of our UnSub. If you will look at the screen", Emily turned in her chair, "They have provided us with the suspect's DNA, which is right now being analyzed for a match with DNA gathered from the scenes. None of the security cameras at any of the sites caught her on picture, but that shouldn't come as a surprise because our UnSub..."  
A picture of the most beautiful redhead Reid had ever seen came on the screen.  
"...is a former counterintelligence officer. Tom?"  
Cummings took the lead. He tapped on his tablet and some more pictures appeared on the screen.  
"You are looking at Deborah McLean, codename Beatrice. An American who came to London in 1995 as a dancer, part of a ballet troupe. The company soon dropped out of production and Beatrice was recruited by the Secret Intelligence Service. She was trained in counterintelligence, survival tactics, weapon discharge, speaks five languages and was one of the Service's most decorated intelligence officers. She is an expert marksman", Cummings said, "...and a Type 1 psychopath. She killed Dr. Bernard Gladly, a psychologist with the Service, when he would not clear her for field duty after her recent psychological evaluation. This... she did with her hands"  
Pictures of a gruesome crime scene flashed on the screen, making Garcia gag and look away. Those were followed by photographs from other crime scenes. Cummings said,  
"Beatrice murdered her fellow officers during a coup in Tehran. These are the remains we found. She was absent from scene and evaded capture for four months, until a unit of the Security Service, formerly known as MI5, alerted our officials of her location. Unfortunately, Beatrice broke out of custody within the week, killing four more of our officers. She was discharged in absentia. After over five years, we got wind of her whereabouts this February, and..."  
Cummings projected another image on the screen.  
"This is her last known image, captured on a CCTV camera in a boutique in Richmond, Virginia"  
The mass of auburn hair had been replaced by blonde curls, like Marilyn Monroe's. But the face remained sweet and beautiful as her recruitment photograph.  
"We have reason to believe that Beatrice has been working as a paid assassin. For whom, we are not sure"  
Matt asked,  
"Why would a highly intelligent spy leave DNA evidence at the scene?"  
Cummings answered,  
"As a counterintelligence officer, her DNA is not available in any database in the world but our own. She knows that. And the murders were all dismissed as suicides and accidents at first. She probably believed no DNA would be traced back to her"  
Matt nodded. Emily asked the Brit,  
"What can you tell us about her as a person?"  
"For most of her missions, I was Beatrice's handler", Cummings said, "She was a lovely girl. Smart, friendly, charming. Against her silver tongue and dazzling looks, none of her targets stood a chance. Don't misunderstand me. The SIS does not use its female officers as mere honey traps, but Beatrice was a master of the art. She once infiltrated a mercenary group in a South American country, and within two weeks, walked their devil of a leader right into our clutches"  
"Any information about her childhood?", Luke asked.  
"Upper middle class American family. Her father was Irish. No siblings. Beatrice performed well in school. She won a children's beauty pageant once"  
"Abuse?", Tara enquired.  
"No. We check for that extensively. Parents loved her. Poor souls died during the 9/11 attacks while she was serving with us"  
"That could have been the primary stressor. Add to that the stress of being a spy, you are looking at the makings of a deviant", Luke remarked.  
JJ wished to know,  
"Did she have any friends?"  
"In her personal life, a few. But at work, she kept to herself. Always had a sense of superiority over the others"  
Luke asked,  
"Did she ever have to kill someone on the job?"  
Cummings gave a nod.  
"In self defense, yes"  
 _'Bullshit'_ , Spencer thought as he looked at Cummings.  
Matt asked,  
"Were those murders as brutal?"  
"No. When she is working, she is methodical. But..."  
Tara finished his sentence.  
"If it's personal, she channels her rage into the act of killing"  
Cummings gave a nod. He took a long breath before he said,  
"The SIS is willing to extend its full cooperation to the FBI in trying to catch her. We recognise that she is within your jurisdiction. Our only request is that she be brought in alive, for protecting the identities of our operatives whom she knows. You will have access to all pertinent information and records. My team will be setting up here shortly. Thank you"

After Cummings and Emily left the briefing room, murmurs went around about the fate of Beatrice once she was caught.  
Tara said,  
"She should be tried in a court of American law"  
Heather smirked.  
"You think _Tom_ is going to care about that?"  
Luke said,  
"The Bureau has probably already made a deal with them. I say the sooner we get her out of here, the better"  
Matt said,  
"She must be really good if the Brits need our help with catching her"

Spencer ventured out of the briefing room to get a look at Cummings' team. They all looked like ordinary British people. Hallmark of a spy: don't be remarkable.  
"Hey"  
Garcia touched him on the arm, standing by his side. She spoke again.  
"You okay?"  
"Yeah. Why do you ask?"  
"You have been real quiet"  
He said,  
"I'm just a little tired. I had to wake up early"  
Garcia nodded, still observing his face. She relented soon and gave him a smile.  
"About yesterday, Monica seems pretty cool. You have the BAU seal of approval. She is...", Garcia patted his shoulder, "She is good for you"  
That he knew. The woman had made him happier than he had ever imagined he would be. She had been his friend, his lover, his confidante. She had brought back the hope he had lost with Maeve's death. And she had broken his trust like no one ever had.  
There was no doubt in Spencer's mind - he and Monica were over for good. His friends didn't need to know that too just yet.  
"Thanks"  
Penelope walked away to her office, making Cummings approach him now that he was alone.  
"Dr. Reid?", Cummings came to him, "We have a protective detail at your mother's nursing home. The agent's bio has been forwarded to your phone. Her cover is that of a nurse there, Allie Rostowski. Rest assured - Beatrice won't be able to harm a hair on your Mum's head"  
"My mother?"  
Cummings spoke in conspiratorial tones.  
"Your partner requested it. She was unofficially a part of the team who were investigating Beatrice, so we honoured her request. We realise the exigencies of the situation for you and her, and with the help of your team, we will do our best to catch Beatrice as soon as possible"  
Spencer stood there, looking after Cummings. His phone beeped and he found a message containing brief details of the SIS agent assigned to protect his Mom.  
Monica's doing.


	23. Traps

A/N: Thank you to the _Guest_ who reviewed the last chapter. Damn, it's good to have my writing acknowledged. Thank you!  
I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter. Let me know. Thanks!

* * *

 _"They sicken of the calm who know the storm"_

 _\- Dorothy Parker_

* * *

Monica drove past her parents' house, the last one on her list. So far, things looked fine at their house, her siblings' places and Dr. Reid's apartment. She didn't check on Diana, not wanting her tail (if Beatrice had set one on her) to confirm there was someone in there worth hurting. She would just have to trust Cummings and his word. He used to be Beatrice's handler. He wanted her caught more than anyone else did. Brits were sentimental about their sense of responsibility like that.

When she arrived at her place, Stephanie had left her a message asking about Bubbly's medication. Monica decided she would call her back later. She collapsed on her sofa chair, thinking about her loss.  
 _'Spencer...'_  
He hated her. She had done foolish things to make sure Beatrice didn't get to him, but the psycho had won. She had taken him away from her without firing a single bullet. Beatrice always won, didn't she?  
It didn't sit right with Monica for long to blame Beatrice. It was her own doing. She had driven him away. When nothing in the world could have come between them, her lies had.  
Though he despised her, she stubbornly held onto their happier memories. The dates, the meetings in the library, the things they loved together, the things they didn't agree upon.  
 _"It's a social commentary! It's a social commen..."_ _  
_ _"It's a romance, Dr. Reid! Captain Wentworth wrote her a bloody love letter!"_ _  
_ _"That letter is bland at best. What?"_ _  
_ _"You take that back"_ _  
_ _"No. I won't"_ _  
_ _"Take it back!"_ _  
_ _"Frederick's letter to Anne is one of the worst..."_ _  
_ _She had silenced him with a surprise kiss. And in his defeat, he had smiled against her lips._

Her door opened.  
Monica looked at it warily, not caring if someone walked in and shot her.  
It was Dr. Reid. He locked the door and came in the drawing room to stand before her. There was at least four feet of distance between them. He stood watching her like they were strangers, an FBI agent just checking on a victim.  
She looked away. He hadn't seemed so hostile even the first time they had met. It pained her to realise this was the same man whom she had planned to share her life with. The same man who had wished her a happy birthday with thirty-one kisses.  
"The BAU is working with the SIS to find Beatrice. We already have a profile, thanks to Cummings, and a list of possible locations"  
She gave half a nod.  
"Any developments while I was gone?"  
"No"  
"You used your car"  
"I checked on my family, their places I mean. Audrey's husband and kids are staying at his mother's. Elaine is at work. Max's wife is with him in England. George has been in Africa since March. My parents' place is locked and secure"  
"They are going to come back sooner or later"  
"It will be over before they do"  
"How do you know that?"  
"Just a feeling"  
Spencer turned on his feet to go, but looked back at her.  
"Thanks", he said, "For thinking of my Mom"  
"I brought this on you. It's the least I could do"  
He didn't say a word, just left. Monica remained alone in the house, fighting back fresh tears.

* * *

Two days of working the case, Spencer marked off the last known location for Beatrice. They had exhausted the list. Cummings and his subordinates sat looking as disappointed as the BAU were.  
"Guys?"  
Garcia came in with her laptop. She turned on the large screen, rambling all the while.  
"I just got some footage sent to me from an unknown address. I'm trying to trace it but the footage is her. Beatrice. And it is live"  
The team watched Beatrice waiting in a car in a parking structure. She occasionally took out a hand mirror from her purse to check on her appearance.  
JJ said,  
"This has to be a trap"  
"It's our best shot. We are going in", Cummings said.  
Emily said,  
"I'll come with. Alvez, Roane - you're with me. The rest of you, stay here. Garcia, call me when you track the sender"  
"Yes, ma'm"  
Spencer watched the spies and part of his team leave the BAU offices, guns locked and loaded.

He was looking into Beatrice's known history. Cummings had been shrewd enough to not lay out any details of her operations from when she had worked for them. There was no use knowing though. It wouldn't add to the profile. A Type 1 psychopath couldn't be talked down or reasoned with. They could only be hunted and captured.  
His phone rang. Unknown number. Spencer answered it.  
"Hiya! Is this Dr. Spencer Reid?"  
It sounded like a teenage girl speaking.  
"Yes?"  
"Well hello, honey! We haven't met yet but I suppose now's as good a time as any"  
He rushed to Garcia's office, signalling to her with his hand to trace the call. Penelope did her best not to panic and started clicking some keys on her system.  
"Who is this?", Spencer asked.  
"Why, it's Beatrice. Tom has told you plenty about me, hasn't he? And I bet Susanna has too", she giggled, "Oops. I meant Monica"  
He could hear his heart pound in his ears. Beatrice went on in a sing-song voice.  
"She has been a really bad girlfriend, hasn't she, honey? I'll put some sense in her, don't you worry. She's with me right now. We are having a girls' day"  
Spencer couldn't find his voice. He had seen what the woman was capable of. And the thought of her being anywhere near Monica...  
"If you hurt her..."  
"I have already started, honey! I would let you talk to her but she just passed out. Too much blood loss will do that"  
Fear gripped his heart at the mental imagery.  
"Your analyst, that chubby tubby, will tell you where I am. Come and get your girl, honey!"  
She hung up. Garcia told him the address. Spencer managed to speak.  
"She... she has Monica"  
"Oh god"

Unaware of Beatrice's lies, Monica was waiting. She was used to waiting. Patience was one of her spy virtues. But this felt like she was waiting for death, for something horrible to happen. As if on cue, her phone rang.  
"Hello, honey, it's me!"  
Monica fought the fear pooling in her stomach and allowed reason to take control.  
"Beatrice, you don't have to hurt..."  
"Oh, I will do more than that, honey. I have your dear..."  
She cut her off mid-sentence.  
"Let's finish this - you and I"  
Beatrice gave a high-pitched laugh.  
"Honey, do you really think _you_ can take _me_?"  
"Why else would you be afraid of me?"  
"Don't flatter yourself, honey. We both know..."  
"Then face me instead of playing games like a coward. If you were half as good as they think you are I would be dead right now. But I guess it's too much to expect an idiot like you to get rid of a former Security Service agent"  
Beatrice maintained a smile in her voice.  
"I know you're trying to rile me up, Susanna. But I won't fall for it"  
"Too worried I will pull that wig off your head and show your stupid face to the world?"  
Beatrice laughed, a rumbling laugh followed by words spoken carefully.  
"It's not a wig"  
"Hair extensions then. At your age, I doubt you..."  
"Don't tempt me, Susanna"  
"Yeah? What the fuck will you do? Send me another ear? That's all you're good for, firing from the bushes. We all know who really killed Dr. Gladly and your team in Tehran"  
"I did"  
"No, you didn't. You just took the credit for some man's work"  
"I did NOT let somebody else do my job for me! You hear me?", she said.  
"What I hear is a prissy little girl who keeps expecting everyone to take her seriously. I bet you used to beg Cummings to let you take credit for his work"  
"Oh...", Beatrice laughed, "Oh I'm going to gouge your pretty eyes out. I..."  
"When? I'll probably be dead by the time you get the courage to come at me"  
"I am going to feed you your cute Dr. Spencer's brain and I'll..."  
Monica forged on.  
"Yeah, right. I am gonna hang up now"  
"You stop it! Listen to me..."  
"Come on, Beatrice. We both know you haven't got what it takes. I put you in once before and I'm going to do it again. That's why you're scared. You probably wet your bed at night thinking about me"  
Beatrice's tone was menacing, ominous.  
"Do you want to try me?"  
"Hell yeah, I want to try you, you ugly old hag"  
She screamed at the top of her lungs.  
 _"I AM GOING TO SHOVE A PIPE DOWN YOUR THROAT TILL IT'S POKING OUT OF YOUR GUTS! I AM GOING TO RIP YOUR HEART RIGHT OUT OF YOUR CHEST! I WILL SHOW YOU JUST WHAT I CAN DO! YOU WAIT RIGHT THERE FOR ME, YOU BITCH, YOU WAIT!"_  
Monica hung up. Her hand shook so bad the phone fell from it to the floor. She put her face between her hands and pulled her hair back.  
Beatrice was coming. Monica was as good as dead.

* * *

Spencer was gearing up when JJ received the call. She put it on speaker.  
"The place was rigged to blow", Emily panted, "We lost Roane... and two of Cummings' agents"  
"Is she..."  
"Yes"  
JJ took a moment to speak again, trying not to think of Heather. Time was running out.  
"Reid got a call from someone claiming to be Beatrice. She said she has Monica. We are heading there right now"  
"It's going to be another trap"  
"We know"  
"Be careful", Emily said and hung up.  
Spencer turned the safety off on his weapon and led the way out.

* * *

It was the wind. Just the wind.  
All senses on high alert, armed with her only weapon, Monica sat in her drawing room and waited. She had blocked all possible entrances to her house, except for the front door. Beatrice could be there any second.  
In what she knew to be her own last moments, Monica tried to think of her fondest memories. Picking cherries with her grandmother, her father letting her ride in his fire truck, her grandfather teaching her to speak Welsh, falling asleep in her mother's arms, playing with her siblings, seeing Maya on that Christmas morning, laughing with Nicole, painting her house, finally having all her books in one place, meeting Spencer, seeing him, him everywhere, he was everything.  
The front door.  
Monica stayed in her chair. She levelled her gun and waited.  
The door opened and Spencer came in. Mouth hanging open in surprise, Monica lowered her gun.

This was bad. She had to get him out of there. Beatrice might be on her way. Spencer took a step towards her.  
"I got a call from Beatrice. I thought she killed..."  
Try as he would, he couldn't finish the sentence. Monica stood dumbfounded. She had never seen him look so scared before.  
"JJ and I went where she said you were but... wait. I forgot to lock the door"  
When he was no longer before her, Monica found her voice. She tried to go after him.  
"You need to get out of here. Beatrice..."  
All of a sudden, she was struck on her head from behind. The vibrations seemed to penetrate through her skull. Monica's ears rang and her vision grew faint as she fell headfirst to the floor. A blurry shape moved in slow motion before her. Then gunshots.  
Bang bang.


	24. Gunshots

A/N: Some readers might find this chapter disturbing, for which I apologise in advance. It's dark, I know, but happy endings aren't exactly my thing.  
Thank you, lovely _Guest._ Your feedback makes my day every time. And thank you to everyone who has read this story and followed its course.

* * *

 _"Peel off the napkin_ _  
_ _O my enemy._ _  
_ _Do I terrify?"_

 _\- Sylvia Plath_

* * *

"STOP IT! GET AWAY FROM HER! STOP!"  
Dr. Reid was screaming. Monica made her best attempt to focus. Her vision was a blur, but she could make out the look of horror on his face. He was tied up in a chair smack in the middle of her drawing room. She tried to make sense of it, but someone was making thunking noises at the back of her knees. She didn't even register the pain at first.  
"This _thunk_ is _thunk_ what _thunk_ I _thunk_ can _thunk_ do!"  
Beatrice.  
Her voice was coming from somewhere above. Monica tried to turn but the pain started at the back of her knees. It grew so intense she couldn't move a muscle. Beatrice dropped the lead pipe by Monica's head. Monica tried to focus on Spencer's face to dissociate herself from the pain of shattered kneecaps.  
"I am _perfectly_ capable of doing my job!", Beatrice yelled, "I am the best at what I do! _The best!_ "  
She lifted Monica by the hair and slammed her forehead against the wall. With the impact, Monica was knocked down on her back. Her head throbbed, but she willed her eyes to stay on Spencer. She tried her best to tell him.  
"It's ok..."  
Beatrice leaped and slammed down her knee into Monica's stomach. Blood spurted out of Monica's mouth as she rolled off her back, clutching her midriff. Spencer kept yelling at Beatrice to stop. He called her Deborah, tried to shift her rage onto himself, struggled against the ropes that bound him. But the woman didn't pay him any heed.  
Monica could make out through her hazy vision Spencer's bleeding right shoulder. She needed to get to him. But the pain rendered her immobile. Beatrice knelt by her side.  
"Do you want to see what else I can do?", she whispered.  
The next moment, Monica screamed so loud it drowned out Spencer's voice. She howled and cried as blood gushed over her arm.  
 _"NO!"_ , Spencer wailed.  
Monica wept in her misery. It was pain beyond anything she had ever imagined. She bit down on her lip, trying her best to stop screaming.  
Beatrice spat out the chunk of flesh she had torn out of Monica's right arm. She pulled her up by the hair.  
"Now that I know you're awake...", Beatrice grinned.  
She let go so Monica's head struck the floor again.

Straightening up, Beatrice walked over to Spencer. Monica heard him say, in his calmest tone of voice,  
"I'm going to kill you. If you go anywhere near her again, I'm going to make you hurt thrice as much, I swear"  
Beatrice ruffled his hair playfully and walked to the back of his chair. Her face lit up with wonder.  
"Oooh! A real Harry Houdini, are ya?", she pointed, "Look, Susanna! He almost got out of the rope. Fascinating, isn't it?"  
Beatrice proceeded to kick the back of the chair, making Spencer fall face-first onto the floor. She struck him in the face with her knee, pinning him down at the point of her own gun.  
"Don't", Monica tried feebly, "Don't touch him..."  
Beatrice tugged the rope off his torso and hands. She kicked away the chair she had tied him to. Craning her neck, Beatrice looked down at him.  
"You talk too much, honey", she turned to Monica, "Profilers. Right, Susanna?"  
Monica summoned all her strength, all her love for him to get up. Her head was spinning. Her vision grew faint. The whole of her existence was unbearable agony. But Spencer...  
"Not him... Beatr... t-take me. Not him. Please"  
Beatrice crouched down by Spencer, still pointing her gun at his head.  
"How would you feel about me pulling out his trachea, Susanna? I did that to Dr. Gladly, you know. Such a stickler for rules. Is Dr. Reid like that too?"  
Monica crawled forward, smearing dribbles of blood across the floor as she did.  
"Let him go..."  
"I can't hear you, honey. You're going to have to speak louder. What? You want me to spare your sweetheart's life?"  
Monica tried again.  
"Take... me. Let him go"  
"Oh look at that, honey!", Beatrice made a sympathetic face, "You think you're going to stop me, crawling like that?"  
"Please..."  
"Tell me - do I look afraid to you?"  
Monica pulled herself along, her front dragging against the floor.  
"Who's ugly now, honey? Is it Dr. Reid? No? But he is going to be", Beatrice chortled with delight, "When I peel his cheeks off and rip that chatty tongue out with my teeth. Look, Susie, I'll show ya"  
She turned to Spencer and licked his cheek with her long, pink tongue. Monica pulled herself forward. She shoved her hand under the couch, eyes not moving away from Spencer. He panted, struggling to stay conscious.  
"It's okay, Monica... look away. Everything's going to be all right"  
Beatrice grinned at their helplessness. Her eyes were saturated with blood-lust. In that split second, Monica saw the horrifying face of insanity.  
Beatrice _enjoyed_ it. The mutilations, the bloodshed, the violence, the gore - she relished it.  
Not even her beauty could mask the inhuman craving in her smile. The perfect pearly-white teeth were tainted with Monica's blood. Her eyes were nearly bulging out of her sockets, and her wide grin touched the corners of those eyes. If ever Monica believed in the existence of evil, it was in that moment. But knowing who was at stake, she didn't hesitate.  
Beatrice raised her hand with its long, manicured nails. She brought her hand down halfway and the fingers curled like claws. Her mouth opened wide, ready to devour her prey.  
The sound of a gunshot rang through the air.

Beatrice turned to Monica, with her eyes full of tears. Her face had all the innocence and petulance of a scolded child. Blood dripped out of the bullet hole in her cheek.  
"Not in the face", she moaned.  
Monica shot her again. And again. Seven shots.  
That beautiful face was wounded beyond recognition. Beatrice's corpse slumped down backwards upon Spencer. Monica tried to shout.  
"Get away from him", she gasped.  
She shot Beatrice again.  
"Get..."  
Once more.  
"Monica, stop!"  
That's all it took.

Spencer crawled out from underneath the dead body and made his way to Monica. She kept holding the gun in her trembling hands, pointing it at Beatrice's corpse. He leaned against the couch, pulling Monica up into his arms.  
"It's okay. She's gone", he panted for breath, "She's dead... it's okay"  
He took the gun out of her hands and put it out of her reach. Monica stiffened. Spencer pulled her flush against his chest. He held her as her tears stained his shirt, kissing the top of her head, murmuring endearments. Wincing, he speed-dialled JJ. He gave her Monica's address.  
"Beatrice is dead", his chest heaved, "We need an ambulance. Now"  
It was over. Thank God it was over. He was never leaving Monica alone again, not after today. He would keep her close forevermore. Reason and sense could go screw each other.  
He loved her. He wasn't just going to let her go.  
Spencer hung up the phone and said to her,  
"You saved us"  
They could move in.  
Part of him supposed it was his own head injury talking, yet Spencer felt sure about it. He tried to get a look at Monica's face before confessing that he still loved her. Judging from how much pain they were in, he knew it would help them both to hear it. But Monica had grown heavy and limp.  
"Monica?"  
He held her face. Her eyes were closed.  
"Monica? Hey. Hey, look at me. Monica, stay with me. Stay with me. Hey, stay with me, please. Monica? Monica?", he sobbed, "No. No, please..."  
She had stopped breathing in his arms.


	25. Goodbyes

A/N: _spygoose_ , _sonnetStar_ , _Kylie Winchester_ , _Guest_ and _Guestdod_ : thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I possibly have the best readers in the world. As for your questions, I hope the next chapter (#26) will answer those. Thank you so much!

* * *

 _"There's little joy in life for me,_ _  
_ _And little terror in the grave;_ _  
_ _I've lived the parting hour to see_ _  
_ _Of one I would have died to save"_

 _\- Charlotte Brontë_

* * *

"I'm Monica..."  
"Miss Marple knows human behaviour better than anyone else!"  
"Hello, Dr. Reid"  
"...thought trees and nature would speak to me if I could just..."  
"...we ever had a son..."  
"...Spencer Jr"  
"When you touch me, I get all giggly"  
"You know you love it, hondo"  
"...go ahead. I wanna see your butt when you walk"  
"...the Godfather - starring Dr. Spencer Reid, Henry LaMontagne and Hank Spencer Morgan"  
"...the TARDIS, duh"  
"...more like a dick-measuring contest..."  
"Rebecca!"  
"Cause it's not good for my reputation as a feminist to be so crazy about..."  
"Dr. Reid?"  
"Oh god, Spencer..."  
"Spencer..."  
"...Spencer"  
"I love you - that is the only explanation I have..."  
"...Spencer"  
"...take me. Not him. Please"  
"Spencer..."  
"...Spencer"  
"Spencer"  
JJ put a hand on his shoulder. It pulled him back to the present, dimming the voice that rang in his ears. Spencer opened his eyes.  
He was beyond exhausted. Breathing was all he could manage. Monica's voice, his memories with her - it all threatened to drive him insane. His mind was overwhelmed with everything Monica. How could he be alive when she...  
"Hey", JJ said.  
He looked up. Her face was sympathetic, mournful.  
Choking back a sob, she said,  
"I'm so sorry..."  
It wasn't her fault. But he was _so_ tired. He didn't have enough energy to tell her.  
"I shouldn't have let you go to her place alone. I..."  
"It wasn't your fault", he said.  
What else could he say? Everything that could go wrong had. Just like he knew it would. Fate always reminded him he didn't deserve the love of a good woman. The breakup, some rogue assassin, her saying 'I love you' over the phone - nothing could have prepared him for losing Monica.  
Garcia came running to them, panting. She asked, catching her breath,  
"How is she?"  
Spencer answered her without looking up.  
"Monica is dying"  
JJ quickly explained.  
"She's in surgery. They can't tell us anything for sure yet"  
He didn't see Penelope's eyes glossing with tears. But he felt her sitting down beside him and holding his hand.  
Rossi came back from another wing in the hospital. He asked Garcia,  
"How are Emily and Luke?"  
"They are okay. Getting patched up"  
JJ looked to Rossi.  
"Heather?"  
The man sighed.  
"Her family just arrived"  
Spencer didn't want to think about it. His teammate had to die. So did two of Cummings' people. Beatrice would have taken him and JJ too, had Monica not taunted her, forcing her to abandon her plan and come for her instead. But sitting in the hospital where Monica had flatlined, he didn't know it. His mind recollected the image of Beatrice tearing through Monica's arm with her teeth. The massive head trauma, the blood loss, the broken knees, the shock brought on by having her flesh ripped out - he hoped to God Monica was strong enough.

After an hour, the doctor stepped out. She had pulled off her bloody gloves and pulled down her mask. Rossi asked her,  
"How is she?"  
"We managed to stop the internal bleeding. But it's still touch and go. The injury to her brain is keeping her in a catatonic state. We can't say more until her heart rate improves. Sorry"  
Rossi and JJ glanced at each other, and then turned to look at Spencer. There was a haunted look about him that could have repelled anyone. But Penelope sat by him anyway. The profilers knew it would be useless to tell him anything about Monica's condition right now.  
"Do you want some coffee?", Penelope asked him.  
He didn't say. JJ and Rossi came to the two, disappointment drawn plainly on their faces. Penelope looked up at them but she didn't have to ask. She gripped Spencer's shoulder instead and stayed by his side.

Emily and Luke joined them soon after. Tara did too, after consoling Agent Roane's family. Having round up the technical matters with CSU and the Bureau, Matt was the last one to arrive. The clock had struck 2:15 AM by then.  
"He needs to sleep", he said about Reid.  
Luke told him.  
"He won't move"  
"Has anyone called Monica's family?", Tara asked.  
JJ had. She told them so. The team glanced over at Emily trying to talk to Spencer. He only looked more desolate with each passing minute.

* * *

Monica's family arrived a day later. George had to fly in from Africa. His father was beyond himself with grief. It only worsened when the doctors told them they could do nothing more for Monica. George asked, his voice trembling with anger and pain,  
"You're asking us to pull the plug on my sister?"  
Catherine sobbed.  
"George, don't"  
Their mother was quiet, much like Spencer. The doctor told them,  
"Whether we... do it or not, it's just a matter of a few hours. I'm sorry"  
George wept, trembling in his grief.  
"How can she die? She's my baby sister. She's... she's fucking thirty-one, for Christ's sake! Audrey, tell them. She's only thirty-one... _oh god"_  
He broke down in his sister's arms. Audrey held him as they mourned together. Max begged his father to stop crying, fighting back his own tears. Not too far from her family, Dr. Fleming was sitting in the chair next to Spencer.  
"Thank you... for making my daughter happy. Ever since she met you, she was more herself than she had been in years", Dr. Fleming said to him, "With time, you are going to forget things about her. It's healthy, part of the healing process. But, she loved you more than anything - I hope you don't forget that"  
Their voices fell on deaf ears. He sat motionless, staring into the void Monica's death would leave in his life.  
Who would hold him every time he had nightmares? Who would kiss him awake? Who would remind him every day that he was the love of her life? If it wasn't going to be Monica, he didn't care.  
Max walked over to Dr. Fleming and Reid.  
"Mom?"  
"Yes, dear?"  
"We have to say goodbye to Monica. Come on"  
The woman's bosom shook with repressed screams and cries. She didn't make any effort to wipe her tears, as her son gave her a hand.  
Spencer sat there. He was thinking about the night he had told Monica he couldn't spend his life with her.  
 _'Got your wish, didn't you?'_ , he thought.

The Knights had said their goodbyes. They, his friends - everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to do the same. As Spencer was still hazy from his own injuries and a lack of sleep, Rossi walked with him to where Monica lay. He gave the young man's shoulder a gentle pat before leaving him alone in there. Spencer raised his gaze from the floor to the hospital bed. And he wept.  
How lifeless her eyes looked. The bruises, the mouth hanging open, the breathing tube, the hair a mess - she never looked this unruly even in her sleep. Always pretty. Always neat.  
And now this travesty.

With tears blurring his vision, Spencer approached the bed. He took another step, making sure her dying eyes were on him. His mouth felt rough as sandpaper when he opened it to speak.  
"Monica?"  
 _Beep beep._  
He ignored the low beeping of her electrocardiogram, the heart rate monitor. Spencer stood by her bed. He looked down. There was the hand that had caressed him so often. He sat on the edge of her bed and took it, knowing it was the last time he would get to touch her. He was never going to hear her speak again, never feel her hand against his cheek, smell her perfume when she embraced him, never _talk_ to her again. He suppressed yet another onset of tears that thought evoked. All the love they had shared - in the end, it didn't matter. His love wasn't enough to save her.  
"Monica... I..."  
As her heart beat faster, the ECG machine beeped louder. Spencer tried again.  
"I need you to know..."  
It got so loud it drowned out his voice. So loud it brought a doctor and a couple of nurses rushing in. So loud he couldn't hear what they were saying as they tried to make him leave.  
"You ha... to wait out... pl..."  
The heart rate monitor sounded crazy. Spencer watched as they rushed the cart in. He stood outside while a nurse closed the door in his face. Someone pulled him back. Too much was happening all at once. Monica's family and his friends were talking among themselves, looking as confused as he was.  
Why wouldn't the doctors let him say goodbye?

Max pulled Catherine away from the closed door.  
"Be honest with me. Is she flatlining?", he asked.  
"No. Her heart actually started beating faster", Catherine looked over at Spencer, "...when he went in"  
"But they said..."  
Max stopped. He and Catherine turned to stare at the dishevelled man surrounded by his colleagues. Monica's father asked his children,  
"Is it a good thing? Cathy?"  
Catherine turned to him.  
She was unsure, but she said,  
"Not usually, but this... this means she just might have a chance"

* * *

A/N: I hope you will forgive the creative liberties I have taken with the medical terms and concepts in this chapter. Leave me some feedback please. Thanks!


	26. Renewals

A/N: Thanks a ton for the feedback on this story, _Guestdod_ , _spygoose_ , _Guest_ and _Beagle Brother_! Special thanks to _Zadicas_ for their eloquent review. It made my day. Thank you so, so much.

* * *

" _Not even in my weakest moment have I considered letting you go"_

– _Judith McNaught_

* * *

Though with a fractured skull, a permanently deformed arm and broken knees - Monica would live. That was enough. It was enough to sustain him for now.  
Spencer waited outside with Rossi while Monica's family went in to meet her. She had regained consciousness that morning. His own injuries were healing too. He had had a bump on his head from Beatrice's blows. Within three days, the swelling had gone down. But Beatrice had shot to maim. Yet the doctor had sounded optimistic about the gunshot wound on Spencer's shoulder. They were going to remove the dressing in a few days.  
He didn't want Monica to see it. She had a tendency to worry and get really loud whenever he was hurt. Hence the cardigan and the buttoned-up shirt. He smiled, thinking about the time a bullet had grazed his arm while dealing with an UnSub.  
 _"You swear?", she had asked._ _  
_ _"I swear. It doesn't even hurt anymore"_ _  
_ _"Okay... if you say so. Did you get him?"_ _  
_ _"Yeah. He is in custody"_ _  
_ _"Where?"_ _  
_ _"In New Jersey"_ _  
_ _"Which prison?"_ _  
_ _"The... why do you want to know?"_ _  
_ _"I'm just curious. What's his name and home address?"_ _  
_ _Spencer had laughed at her._ _  
_ _"What are you going to do? Chop down the trees in his yard?"_ _  
_ _"I wouldn't do that to a tree! I would do that to him though"_ _  
_ _"Right"_ _  
_ _He had told her what he believed._ _  
_ _"You're incapable of hurting people, Monica. I knew that the first time I saw you"_ _  
_ _"You did?", she had smiled._ _  
_ _"Yes. Now, give me my shirt back"_ _  
_ _"You should let the wound breathe"_ _  
_ _"Those are half sleeves. Give it to me"_ _  
_ _"How about no?"_ _  
_ _"I know what you're doing. Give it back. I don't look good without my shirt on"_ _  
_ _"Oh yeah? Was I licking your non-existant abs last weekend?"_ _  
_ _"You stop it. Give me my shirt back"  
"Come and get it!" __  
_He glanced down at himself. He was wearing the green shirt she had bought him on April 14 and given to him three days later, the one with the pine trees embroidered on it. He hoped she would notice it. What she would also notice though, probably, was how terrible he looked. Penelope had brought him the change of clothes at his request, but he hadn't actually seen his own image for the last three days.  
"Rossi?"  
"Yeah"  
"Can we go to your car? The men's room here doesn't have a mirror. And my phone doesn't have a front camera", Spencer felt embarrassed to say, "I want to get a look at myself before Monica sees me"  
The senior agent smiled at him with paternal affection. He stood up.  
"Come on"  
They walked out of the hospital wing towards the parking lot.

Inside the hospital room, Monica was doing her best to remain conscious. She was still on a heavy amount of morphine. But she could see her family gathered around one side of her bed. Her mother was kissing her face.  
"My brave girl, my little darling..."  
"Mom", Catherine said.  
Dr. Fleming smiled at Monica and stepped back. The Knights were all smiling down at her. She was happy to see them, of course. But the first words Monica spoke after defeating death were -  
"Dr. Reid..."  
Max and Audrey shared a knowing look. Monica had to speak up. She could barely hear her own voice.  
"How is he?"  
"He is fine, Mon", Audrey said.  
"She shot him"  
"He is okay now"  
Monica asked,  
"How do you know?"  
Her father told her.  
"He has been waiting right outside, sweetie. You have... you haven't been well for a while. Spencer stayed right here all the time. His friends couldn't get him to go home. He wouldn't move until the doctors told him you were better"  
The thought of him being in pain was replaced by the thought of him still caring about her, forgiving her. A tear streaked down Monica's face. Her voice sounded raspy.  
"He... he's been waiting for me?"  
"Yes", Max said, "He is right outside, Mon. He is waiting to meet you"  
She croaked,  
"He is?"  
Her brother nodded. Monica closed her eyes and turned her face upwards. Life had been breathed back into her again.  
He had stayed. When she had given him reason enough to leave, he had stayed.  
In spite of her happiness, doubt lingered nearby. His staying at the hospital didn't mean he still loved her. Misplaced guilt could do that too.  
Monica opened her eyes when Audrey stepped up to wipe her tears.  
"Does anyone have a mirror?", she said, "I don't want him to see me looking like a patient"  
Mr. Knight laughed in relief. He and his wife held each other, sighing in content.  
"Let me do her hair"  
"Maybe you should fix your own hair first"  
"I'm calling dibs on the hair!"  
"Touch my hair and I'll strangle you with my catheter, George"  
"Audrey, do you have a wet wipe?", Max said, "I'm just going to wipe your face clean, Mon. Is that okay?"  
"I need eyeliner, stat!"  
"No eyeliner, George! _Jesus!_ "  
"Cherry chapstick - for real, Cathy?"  
They watched the children take care of their little sister's appearance.

* * *

Spencer stood outside her door, holding a book close to his heart. It was one of her favourites. He had planned to record an audiobook of it for her next birthday. But it seemed right for him to bring it to her now.  
Dr. Fleming stepped out, followed by the rest of the Knights. He hadn't been able to look them in the eye. Part of him knew it was ridiculous, but he still felt guilty for not having protected Monica from Beatrice. Her family seemed to bear him no ill-will though. Max smiled at him.  
"If you don't go in soon, she's gonna come out looking for you"  
George gave his shoulder a friendly pat as they walked past him. Spencer steeled himself for a moment before taking the first step in.

Past the white blinds, right across the windows, Monica was sitting up in her hospital bed. She was looking at him and smiling. The doctors had put a neck brace on her, reminding him how severe her head injuries were. Her disfigured arm was half under the sleeve of her hospital gown, but the white bandage along its length was clearly visible. She looked neat, but tired.  
 _'The morphine'_ , he figured.  
"Hi", she said.  
His throat felt tighter.  
"Hi"  
Seeing Monica alive and (somewhat) well made him want to do things one shouldn't do to a trauma patient. It was an excess of relief and gratitude. He contained it within himself with much effort. Monica invited him to sit on her bed by patting the space next to her. Spencer sat down by her side, reminding himself not to burst into tears.  
Monica said,  
"How are you? How's your head?"  
"It's okay. It was a mild concussion"  
"And your shoulder? Let me see your shoulder"  
"It's fine"  
"Let me see it"  
To prevent her from reaching forward towards him, he took off his cardigan. He undid a few buttons on his shirt and held it open to reveal the bandage on his shoulder. Monica's fingertips passed gently around his bandage.  
"Stitches?"  
He said,  
"Five"  
"Please tell me you didn't refuse the painkillers"  
"I had to"  
She looked up at him with tearful eyes.  
"You should look at yourself"  
"This is all my f..."  
"No", he interrupted her, "This is on Beatrice, not you"  
She asked,  
"She's dead. Right?"  
"Yeah"  
Monica nodded. Spencer buttoned up his shirt again. Reminiscing about that horrible woman, he had to ask.  
"How did you know she had kicked your gun under the couch?"  
She said,  
"I saw it when I was on the floor. It was either a great coincidence or divine intervention. Or a dumb stroke of luck - none of which I believe in"  
Whatever it was, he knew it had saved their lives. Some things, Spencer believed, were out of the ambit of explanation. As long as it had ensured Monica would live, he didn't mind what powers had been at work.  
"You finally wore it"  
He looked up to find Monica was talking about his shirt. She smiled.  
"I actually wanted to buy the one with pumpkins on it, 'cause it would remind us of Halloween, but they didn't have it in your size. So I got this instead. I like it. Pine trees are evergreen"  
"I like it too"  
"I'm glad you do"  
Monica paused before saying,  
"I'm going to have to incorporate a wheelchair in my Halloween costume this year, aren't I? I hate the idea of me being in a wheelchair. It's so... paretic"  
"What did the doctor say?"  
"She was vague. I mean, I haven't lost all mobility. I am pretty sure I can move my legs once they take this stupid cast off"  
"Are you having headaches?"  
"Not really"  
"Don't lie"  
"Sorry. It's a common after-effect of head trauma, you know that. Nothing to worry about"  
"And... your arm?"  
She scoffed.  
"Itchy like hell, and I assume, hideous"  
Spencer didn't respond to that. They sat in silence until Monica spoke.  
"I know we aren't together anymore but, I really appreciate you coming to see me. Max was saying something about your colleagues being hurt. When I asked him, he pretended he didn't know what I was talking about. Are they okay?"  
"Yeah"  
"What happened? Did... did she get to them before coming to us?"  
"It's a long story. I can tell you later"  
"Thank you. I would like that"  
He gave a nod. She finally noticed the book on his lap.  
"What's that?"  
Monica was looking at him. A small smile had been playing on her lips ever since he had arrived. But ghosts of words said before hung between them still. He knew he couldn't change the past. He just hoped to replace those bitter words he had said with the ones she deserved to hear. She spoke before he could.  
"I... look, I know you can't be with me anymore. Considering what I have put you through, I don't blame you. I just... this is going to sound selfish but... I don't want to lose my best friend. Maybe someday I'll learn how to stop loving you but it won't be any soon. I hate to sound so co-dependent and oh hell, I'm rambling", she gave a wary laugh.  
He listened in silence as Monica said,  
"What I want to say is - if possible, if you want it too that is, could we..."  
"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach"  
Monica's smile disappeared. Like precursors to a storm, her eyes filled with tears again. Spencer mastered his voice. Try as he may, it trembled.  
"You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever. I offer myself to you again with a heart... even more your own than when you almost broke it..."  
His speech failed him as Monica burst into tears. Spencer reached forward to embrace her. The Persuasion paperback slipped from his lap onto hers. He held her in his arms as she cried. Her crying always made him cry. So he let it.  
When he had gained some semblance of control, Spencer withdrew to look at her face. He was full of hope as he asked her -  
"Will you take me back?"  
Monica looked up at his face, sobbing.  
"When did I ever let you go?"


	27. Choices

" _Have you ever felt really close to someone? So close that you can't understand why you and the other person have two separate bodies, two separate skins?"_

– _Nancy Garden_

* * *

Emily had insisted on being in the room during Cummings' questioning. They had said they would be okay. The Unit Chief sat in her office, hoping Cummings wouldn't give Monica a hard time about killing Beatrice. She had only defended herself and her boyfriend. It always made Emily a bit uncomfortable when ordinary civilians like Monica had to take drastic actions in self-defence. Poor thing must be traumatised.  
There was something about Monica Knight that seemed familiar to Emily, something they shared. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. It wasn't anything dangerous but, it was there.  
Emily ignored the gut feeling. Spencer loved Monica. She had managed to protect him when Beatrice had come at her to get to him. That was enough for Emily. Her friend was with someone who deserved him.

* * *

Spencer didn't leave Monica's side, despite of Cummings' suggestion that he do so. She was doing better. But she was still confined to her hospital bed. He witnessed the exchange between her and Cummings, who was standing a few feet away from them.  
"I checked your record, agent"  
Monica corrected him.  
"It's Dr. Knight, thank you"  
Cummings' face was unreadable. He said,  
"You were good, never conspicuous. Not one failed mission. You played by the rules"  
"I know"  
"Then how the hell could you kill someone as important as Beatrice?", Cummings snapped, "You knew we would need her alive. By killing her, you have cost us information of the utmost importance. There is no way for us to know now who had employed her"  
"She hurt my boyfriend. She attacked us in my house"  
"From what I know, you taunted her. You made her come to your house"  
"Are you admitting to keeping tabs on an American citizen's calls?"  
The man glowered at her.  
"If I have my way when I am back in London, that's all you're going to be. Your acts were motivated by self-interest. You did not consider the impact of your actions on the safety and security of..."  
Spencer watched her crack a smile as she interrupted Cummings.  
"Spare me the national security bullshit, Mr. Cummings. We both know that's a hype-term to get new recruits motivated. I stand by my actions. I am not a violent person, but if I had to kill Beatrice again, I would do it. I would shoot her in the face as many times as she deserved"  
Lying in the hospital bed, her eyes held such courage. To Spencer, that courage looked out of place on her weakened form.  
The reason she had taken on Beatrice was to protect him. Everything she had done in the last few days had confirmed one of his biggest fears - Monica would never hesitate to put herself between him and danger.  
"What did Lawrence tell you?", Cummings asked.  
"That he could use my help tracking her"  
"Nothing else?"  
"No"  
Spencer watched them both. A wordless conversation took place right before his eyes. Monica didn't even blink as Cummings kept observing her face.  
"The gun you shot her with, it was a Glock 19. It's a standard issue sidearm for the Security Service. Now, records say you handed in yours when you retired, and the ballistics don't match with your service weapon, but..."  
"It was Beatrice's"  
Cummings asked,  
"She brought two different handguns?"  
"Dr. Reid uses a revolver. Whatever other weapons were on the scene, they had to be hers"  
"You expect me to believe that?"  
"I expect nothing from you"  
Before things could take a turn for the worse, Spencer said,  
"Will that be all, Mr. Cummings?"  
Cummings kept looking at Monica, as he said,  
"Yes"  
He stepped forward and shook Spencer's hand. His words were aimed at Monica.  
"A speedy recovery to you, Dr. Knight"  
"Thanks. Have a safe flight", she said.  
The man walked out of the door without looking back.

When they were alone again, Spencer turned to Monica. She knew what was coming.  
"You called her?", he asked.  
"She called me"  
"And you invited her to attack you?"  
"She would have done it anyway..."  
"Not like that she would have", Spencer exclaimed, "What you did was reckless and... stupid!"  
"Sue me then"  
She hadn't meant to sound so caustic. Spencer frowned.  
"You were alone. She could have killed you. She almost did!"  
"I am alive, aren't I?"  
"What is wrong with you? You think..."  
"I'm not having this argument with you. I made a choice and I do not regret it. That's all"  
Why did she feel so angry? Time for damage control.  
When his frown wouldn't turn upside down, she poked his cheek.  
"Don't", he said, mouth pursed in a tight line.  
He was adorable when sulking like that. So Monica poked his cheek again.  
"Stop it"  
"Or what?", she grinned.  
"I'm not joking, Monica. What you did wasn't okay. You put your life at stake", he said.  
"I had to do it. I know it didn't go well and you got hurt, which is the one thing I was..."  
"This isn't about me getting hurt. This is about you putting yourself in danger. Do you have any idea what the last few days have been like?", he said, "I spent over two hundred thousand seconds sitting on that chair outside, and thinking for each one of them that you were going to die. My mind kept bombarding me with every single time that I hurt you or turned you away or took you for granted"  
"Dr. Reid..."  
"When Maeve died...", he began.  
That was enough to make her stop talking and listen.  
"When Maeve died", Spencer paused, "I felt completely alone. Like there was no one left in the whole world who would understand me. Like I would never be able to love someone again. And when Dr. Lopez told us _you_ were going to die, I was lost. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't even move. I knew - if you were to die, I would never be myself anymore. That a part of me would die with you"  
His eyes pleaded with hers.  
"I know you don't always like the things I do. I know you can talk with me for hours about Euclidean geometry and-and astrophysics, but you don't enjoy it the way I do. And I know this is going to sound ridiculous but Monica, you complete me", he said, "When I'm with you, I'm not me - I'm better. I'm smarter, I'm braver, I'm funnier. I'm more confident. When we are together, we become one perfect person, you and I. And every time you put yourself in danger, you put part of me in danger. So the next time you want to invite a psycho to kill you, you better calculate your losses"  
That was as close to a romantic proclamation as she had ever gotten from him. Monica stared at him, dumbfounded. His words felt nothing short of poetry, but grand speeches about love weren't his strong suit. She was almost synaesthetic to his discomfort.  
Monica managed to say,  
"That logic is flawed and you know it"  
"All I'm saying is, I can take care of myself. You don't have to..."  
"So can I. But would that stop you from wanting to protect me?"  
"I..."  
He frowned. Monica raised a brow. Spencer spluttered,  
"That's not fair"  
"All is fair in love and war"  
He sighed. When he looked up again, she knew he was willing to drop the subject. The pathetic facial expression she adopted helped too. Spencer watched her for a moment and leaned back in his chair. He looked casually around the room once, before saying,  
"The original quote is - the rules of fair play do not apply to love and war. It's from John Lyly's 1579 novel..."  
"Eupheus: the Anatomy of Wit", she finished his sentence.  
The way he stared at her made her crack a reluctant smile.  
"I love you", he said with reverence.  
She took his hand.  
"I love you too"  
His fingers grazed the back of her hand. He looked down at their hands. She watched his thumb glide leisurely along the back of her hand. To her, his hands were beautiful. Long, artistic fingers, the softness of fluffy cotton, and still the masculine firmness. Spencer intertwined his fingers with hers so, that her hand was bent backwards from the wrist, pressed against the mattress on her bed. Monica was all attention at the way he was holding her hand down.  
Just like he did in bed.  
She looked up into his eyes and her heart skipped a beat. The way his pupils dilated, and his eyes suddenly seemed darker. The way he licked his lips, trying not to let his feelings show on his face. It was flattering too, that he would want her when she was in a neck brace and a hospital gown. Monica lowered her gaze and blushed, as Spencer leaned forth to place the tenderest of kisses on her cheek. The familiar smell of soap on his skin only worsened her longing. Too bad she couldn't move her neck. She would have showed him just how bad a woman could want a man. It seemed that Spencer could sense her frustration though, because he smiled and kissed her on the lips.

Just before she could give in to the sweet surrender, there was a knock on her door. Spencer quickly moved away, making her groan.  
"Why did you stop?", she whined.  
"Sshh"  
Monica cursed and looked towards the door. She watched her parents step in. Her mother carried a bag over her shoulder and her father was holding a potted plant.  
"Anthurium?", she couldn't help but grin, "Don't tell me you smuggled that in, Dad"  
"Didn't have to", he winked, "Just turned on the ol' charm"  
"And what have you got there, Mom?"  
Her mother produced a good number of books from her bag. Monica couldn't stop smiling.  
"You guys... thank you"  
She dreaded having to tell them what they should have noticed, but her Mom didn't give her the chance.  
"I see someone has already got you covered"  
Dr. Fleming was referring to the pile of books on her daughter's bedside table, and the bonsai sacred fig.  
"Yeah. Dr. Reid brought me some of my books and this"  
Monica touched the pot. She exchanged a look with Spencer before glancing at her parents. They didn't seem offended in the least. Her Dad was actually smiling.  
"I'm glad he did", he said to Spencer, "That was nice of you, son"  
"It was no trouble. Sacred fig tree, or _ficus religiosa_ , purifies the air by almost 80%. Some cultures believe the tree grants you peace because the Buddha is supposed to have gained enlightenment while sitting under one"  
Mr. Knight looked down at the plant in his hands. He said,  
"I just bought this 'cause it had pretty flowers"  
Monica said,  
"Yeah, and the leaves contain poisonous sap. But don't worry. It's only poisonous if ingested"  
Spencer reached his hands forward towards Mr. Knight.  
"Let me help you with that"  
Her boyfriend helped make room for the new plant and the books. Monica was watching him, with love in her eyes. Her attention turned to her mother, who mouthed to her -  
 _"Marry him"_  
Monica just grinned.

* * *

He was sitting next to her on the bed, while Mr. Knight and Dr. Fleming occupied two chairs. Somewhere between the conversation, Monica had fallen asleep. Spencer had been the first to notice. He tucked the hair away from her face, made sure she didn't feel cold.  
"How's your wound?", Mr. Knight asked him.  
"It's better. They should take the bandage off tomorrow"  
Dr. Fleming said,  
"When are you due at work?"  
"It's up to me, actually. Even after my medical leave ends, I have plenty of vacation days saved up"  
"Mon says you're married to your work", Mr. Knight teased.  
Spencer smiled and looked down lovingly at her face.  
"That's one of her favourite jokes"  
"I understand it though. I used to be passionate about my job too. It happens when you feel like you're making a difference, doesn't it?"  
"Yeah"  
"But if you need to be at work, we can handle things here", Dr. Fleming said, "The two of us can be here throughout the day. George is willing to stay nights. The other three have their own families, but it won't stop them from visiting as often as they can"  
Spencer was grateful for the offer, but he explained,  
"I am still consulting cases for my team on phone if they need me. Besides, the Bureau won't clear me for field duty anyway until my stitches have dissolved. Then there's the psych eval. And the..."  
Dr. Fleming smiled her benevolent smile.  
"I understand you wanting to be close to her in her condition, Dr. Reid. But she has the entire hospital staff and us to look after her. She will need you more when they let her go home. Recovering from surgery and head trauma, it's never easy. There will be changes in her body, in her behaviour. Monica rarely ever gets angry or irritated, but with what she has been through, you never know. She won't admit it, but she is going to need you to be there for her - physically and emotionally"  
He gave a dutiful nod.  
"I know"  
"I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but a better use of your vacation days would be for when you can be at home with her"  
Mr. Knight reminisced,  
"During my pole sliding days..."  
"Stop calling it that, Dad. You were a firefighter"  
All eyes turned towards the woman with the sleepy voice. Monica grabbed the side of her bed and tried to rise.  
"I got you"  
Spencer was there to help her up. He didn't let go of her till she was sitting comfortably in bed.  
"Why didn't anyone wake me up?", she complained.  
"You need as much rest as you can get, dear", her mother said.  
"I hate naps", Monica grumbled.  
Before she could try to reach for her glasses on the bed stand, Spencer put them on her. He handed her the book she had been reading before falling asleep.  
"Thanks"  
He didn't notice how fondly her parents were gazing at them.  
"We were just discussing with Spencer about your visitors' schedule", Mr. Knight told his daughter, "You're going to be here for a while, sweetie. We think we should take turns, staying with you"  
"I have the whole hospital staff to take care of me. I don't want any of you waiting on me here like this is some big deal", she touched Spencer's arm, "And take him with you too"  
The three shared a look as Monica busied herself with reading the book. Spencer said,  
"Actually, I was thinking I should go back to work. They will put me on desk duty until I'm cleared for the field"  
"That's a great idea"  
"This way, I can use my vacation days to be with you when you're at home"  
"You don't have to do that. I could get a nurse. Your work is more important"  
"No, it's not. And I would rather it be me than a nurse we don't even know"  
Monica looked at him from above her glasses.  
"A trained nurse versus you?"  
"I delivered a baby once. I'm pretty sure I can take care of you"  
She threw him that _"Oh really?"_ look. Mr. Knight wasn't as amused.  
"You delivered a baby?"  
"Yeah. It, uh, it was for a... during a case. The UnSub was holding the lady hostage and she went into labour. I had to... help deliver the child"  
Mr. Knight said,  
"I have five children. I was a firefighter for forty-two years. But I never could stand childbirth"  
Dr. Fleming squeezed her husband's hand as she told Spencer,  
"He fainted every single time in the delivery room. Monica's birth was the only exception"  
"That's because you were screaming and crying. The other four times you had been so calm. When you were birthing Monica, you were in so much pain, I had to be there for you"  
Fondly recalling the memory, Dr. Fleming said,  
"Ah. Monica weighed almost eleven pounds when she was born"  
"I remember", Mr. Knight said, "That hospital bed looked like a crime scene..."  
"Story-time's over", Monica said loudly, "I don't want to relive my birth, please? Thank you"  
Spencer found the whole discussion funny, right until Mr. Knight said to him,  
"Well, it's a good thing you know about childbirth. It will be easier for when you two have your own"  
"Ted!"  
"Dad!"  
He went on,  
"I have always wanted grand-twins..."  
"Mom!", Monica exclaimed.  
Dr. Fleming scolded her husband.  
"Ted, stop it. You know that is inappropriate"  
She turned to Spencer.  
"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to make you two uncomfortable"  
"It's okay", he said.  
It was some thought, him and Monica having twins. Of course, they couldn't be his, biologically. He had made up his mind on that a year ago. But, it didn't hurt to... fantasize.  
Especially the conceiving part.  
And the part where, Monica being Monica, she would come up with some intelligent way to tell him she was pregnant. Ah, to hear her say _"You're going to be a Dad!"_  
And then the pregnancy. She would grow even more beautiful. He would design the perfect diet and exercise schedule for her. The weight gain would suit her. God, he had never known how badly he wanted to see her pregnant with his child. And that typical pregnant lady waddle. Monica would look so cute doing that.  
That daydream blew away when he was back to reality. Monica had raised the book upwards so it hid her face from view. But he could still see the neck brace, the casts. Spencer chastised himself.  
 _'What is wrong with you? She is heavily injured and you're thinking about impregnating her'_  
That's when the nurse came in.  
"I am going to need you folks to leave the room for a while. It's time for her sponge bath"  
Monica put away her book and glasses. Her parents got out of their seats.  
"We are right outside, dear", Dr. Fleming told her.  
They were well out of earshot when Spencer got up to leave too. Monica asked the nurse,  
"Can he stay?"  
The nurse grinned at them both.  
"After I leave, please"  
He tried his best not to seem enthralled by the idea. Looking down at her mischievous smile, Spencer kissed the top of her head. He smiled back at her and said oh-so-sweetly,  
"I'll put a baby in you soon"  
 **"What?"**  
"I... I-I-I mean I'll see you soon", he cleared his throat and backed out, "I'm... uh... bye"


	28. Plans

A/N: Thank you, dear _Guest_ , for your feedback on the last chapter. I have more fluffiness planned for this story until the next story arc, which should be here in a couple more chapters. Thank you everyone for still reading this!

* * *

 _"The only way to have eternal love is to never let your heart forget what it's like to live without it"_

 _\- Sherrilyn Kenyon_

* * *

The first thing he did on getting off the jet was call George. It was past midnight in Virginia, and his body was reeling from a four-hour flight. But he had to know.  
"Hey man", George answered the call.  
"Sorry for calling so late. I just wanted to check in on her"  
"It's no problem. I'm nocturnal"  
"Is she asleep?"  
"I think so? She seemed asleep for like an hour. But then I tried to take her phone to snoop and she opened her eyes. She told me she'd cut my hand off if I touched her phone. It was creepy as hell"  
"Monica's a light sleeper. What did she have for dinner?"  
"Four bigass bowls of soup, and most of my salad. And the two slices of pie, one of which was mine"  
"It's a good thing she is eating well. No more nausea?"  
"Not from the looks of it"  
"Okay. Is she... everything's fine, right?"  
"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"  
Spencer sighed.  
"I don't know"  
"You have separation anxiety. I get it. But she's doing well, Spencer. Dr. Lopez told you so. And Monica is pretty tough, health-wise. When we were kids, every time we went to the doctor's, she always had excess nutrients in her body. Our paediatrician wrote a research paper on her. Don't worry about Monica, all right? She's going to be fine"  
"Thank you. When she wakes up, could you tell her I called?"  
"Sure"  
"Thanks, George. Good night"  
"Night"  
He had been away from her for almost twelve hours. A bit relieved that her condition hadn't worsened since, Spencer joined his team.

* * *

 _A few days later -_

Now that her neck brace was gone, Monica seemed more cheerful.  
Spencer told her again,  
"If you start to feel dizzy, you have to tell me immediately"  
"Sir, yes sir"  
"I'm serious"  
"No kidding"  
He observed the expression on her face as she read. She still had to lean against the bed and the pillows when sitting up. But losing one of her "ornaments", as she called them, had a remarkable effect on her mood.  
"Are you going to sit there staring at me all day?", Monica said, without looking away from her book, "You know, for a guy who claims to hate hospitals, you have pretty much set up camp here, Doc"  
"I just want to make sure you're comfortable"  
George came in then. He picked up his book from the nightstand and said to her,  
"I'm heading home. You need anything when I come back?"  
"No, thank you"  
He yawned.  
"You thought about my idea?"  
Monica exclaimed,  
"I said no!"  
Spencer looked from one to another.  
"What's going on?", he asked.  
Monica glared at her brother before looking at her boyfriend.  
"George has this 'genius' idea in mind. He wants to bring in a stripper here to cheer me up because apparently, I am grumpy"  
George defended his idea.  
"I saw it in an Indian movie! The guy had cancer and his friends brought in this stripper slash dancer to..."  
"Did her lap dance cure his cancer?"  
"Of course not. It just..."  
"Then shut up!"  
Spencer was trying to detect the rational logic behind George's proposed scheme, but it evaded him.  
"Fine. Be Grumpy Gertrude. I don't care. I'm going to bring my headphones when I come back tonight. That way I won't have to listen to your rants about plastic pollution"  
"No one's asking you to come back. Fuck off"  
"You fuck off. Oh wait. You can't, Lieutenant Dan"  
Feeling awkward as hell, Spencer considered intervening. But George and Monica kept calling each other names.  
"...it's like babysitting the demon from the Exorcist"  
George pulled on his jacket and kissed his sister's forehead. She handed him his phone, which he seemed to have forgotten.  
"Try not getting hit by a bus on your way back"  
"It would be less painful than watching you skype with your dog. Bye"  
"Bubbly's better company than you are. Don't drive like an idiot. Watch the speed limit!"  
He waved at her over his shoulder before walking out of their sight.

The exchange left a bewildered Spencer staring at his girlfriend. Monica shrugged at his look.  
"He's my brother. That's how we talk"  
"I didn't say anything"  
"You think we're odd"  
He admitted,  
"Somewhat"  
She made use of her bookmark.  
"This is nothing. We fought like crazy when we were kids. It was probably because we were the closest in age. Wore each other's clothes, played with each other's toys. But then he joined the Peace Corps when he was 21", Monica smiled, "That was _the_ most difficult year of my entire life. I had never imagined I would ever miss George so badly. It was part of the reason why I went to England. The house was too quiet without him in it"  
Spencer said,  
"I thought George was unemployed"  
"He lives on allowances from the different organisations he works with. He is the only one in our family who didn't go to college. He asked Mom and Dad if he could use his college fund to support his volunteer work instead", Monica said, "Everyone thinks Audrey, Catherine, Max, me - we are the successful ones. But we all envy George. He was the only one of us brave enough to give up everything, so he could try and make the world a better place. It's why I love him the most. He loves me too"  
"That's not so obvious sometimes"  
She gave a little laugh at that. Spencer watched her mirthful expression.  
"I like seeing you around your family", he observed.  
"Quite the circus-folk, right?"  
"No. I think it's nice you have a family that cares about you so much"  
"If I'm being honest, I didn't think so for the first year after I came back home. My life in the UK was the opposite of what I have here. Mom and Dad's constant coddling used to bother me so much I made an escape plan. I was going to put it in motion once I had enough money"  
"What plan?"  
"I was going to go live in the mountains. A small cabin or cottage, solitude and my books. I was going to be Walden, to be precise. But then I got used to the constant visits, and phone calls, and invitations to lunch. I got the job at the university. And I slowly realised that I couldn't live without my folks anymore. Not after having been away for so long", Monica said, "So the hermit thing became my retirement plan"  
Something told him he shouldn't ask her. But they were a couple. He deserved to know.  
"You're going to retire into the woods?"  
"Was"  
That was a relief.  
"What changed?", Spencer asked.  
"I met you"  
Monica's smile knocked the mental imagery out of his mind.  
"What do you mean?"  
"It means you screwed up pretty much all the plans I had for being the crazy hermit lady"  
"If it's something you really want, you know I won't stand in your way"  
"But it's no longer what I want", Monica told him, "Now what I want is a porch swing"  
Unable to make sense of it, Spencer repeated,  
"A porch swing?"  
Monica nodded.  
"Me, as a grey-haired but dignified grandmother, sitting on that swing with a content smile on my face. And as I am listening to the birds singing in the garden, this tall, handsome old gentleman walks out of my door and sits next to me"  
He was smiling before she could even finish narrating her fantasy.  
"...and he goes", she mimicked his manner of speaking, but in a tired, raspy voice, "Monica, did you come out without your walker again? I don't see why you have to be embarrassed about it. You know, over 7 million people in the US use walkers and crutches to help with their mobility..."  
"Those statistics are incorrect", he grinned.  
"Oh they will be correct by the time we get old. And by the way, you're not allowed to call me Monica once we become senior citizens. You're going to have to come up with some sweet nickname"  
"What, and you will still call me Dr. Reid?"  
"Have you ever seen an old man being called Spencer? That's a young-guy name"  
"If I have to call you by a nickname, you have to do the same for me"  
"I have tried, believe me", she grinned, "Every time I try to call you something sweet, I also end up telling you I love you. I can't help it. I get all gooey and mushy in my subconscious when I call you by anything that's not your last name. It's almost involuntary. And stupid"  
That was not what he thought at all.  
"But I promise - by the time we are old, I will come up with an endearing nickname for you. What do you think about honeysuckle? Or sugar-wein?", she started laughing, "Imagine... imagine the grandkids asking me why I call their Grandpa sugar-wein"  
He was too touched to join her in the laughter. Something warm hugged his insides. In his seventh month of dating Monica, he had interpreted it to be love. It was a poetic marvel that love had stayed so long.  
Spencer asked sweetly, almost not believing it,  
"You want to grow old with me?"  
"It beats fighting off mosquitoes in the woods"  
He was elated. Him and Monica - growing old together. The prospect of grand-fathering kids with her was as exciting as them having their own. Spencer pushed _that_ thought out of his mind for the forty-seventh time.  
He asked instead,  
"What is the porch swing made off?"  
"I don't know. Iron?"  
"And the house?"  
"I painted it white and pearl with my own hands, did all the landscaping too. I think one of our favourite authors lived in it once"  
"Ooh, which one?"  
"A Mr. Edgar Allan Poe"  
"No way", he said, almost childlike in his absorption of the fantasy, "Really?"  
"Uh-huh"  
"What else?"  
"Well, we have our own private library, of course"  
"Next to our room?"  
"Yes"  
"Does it have all my books?"  
"It sure does"  
"What about yours?"  
"Mine too"  
"That's a big library"  
"Yep"  
He laid his forearms on the bed and lay his head on them, face turned towards Monica.  
"Tell me more", he said.  
Indulging him with a smile, she did.


	29. Songs

A/N: My sincere apologies for the late update. I had my finals this week, and bonus – I got sick. Thank you for the review yet again, wonderful _Guest_ you, and I also thank all the new readers. I hope you all like this... sort of a song-fic. Let me know what you think!

* * *

" _But I am your keeper_

 _And I hold your face away from light_

 _I am yours till they come"_

 _\- Laura Marling_

* * *

"You are a psycho magnet. You attract crazy people"  
"No, I am not"  
"You want me to count? I'll start from the latest - Kat Adams, that student of yours who..."  
"You are attracted to me too!"  
"Exactly!"  
Spencer shook his head, grinning.  
He was changing into his pajamas. She was her usual cheerful self. The almost-healed wound on her arm was hidden under her long sleeves. If it weren't for the casts on her legs, there could have been no indication that Monica was recovering from any injuries. She looked like an actress playing a part. Her face had its usual bloom and her laugh its musical vivacity.  
He envied her that inner strength and optimism sometimes.  
"Speaking of", she said, "I got so angry the first time you told me about Kat Adams. To stop myself from hunting her down and hurting her, I had to imagine her as one of the losers in that song 'I Just Had Sex'. It doesn't make sense, but that made me laugh. And it kinda suppressed my murderous desire"  
"There's a song called I Just Had Sex?"  
"Yeah"  
"People actually listen to it?"  
"I do, sometimes"  
"When?"  
"After we have sex"  
He stifled a laugh. Monica hauled herself onto the bed without his help. She cursed as her crutches fell against the floor.  
"I got it", Spencer said.  
He picked them up and laid them against the bed by the headboard, so those wouldn't be the first thing she saw when she woke up. Judging from her facial expression, he could tell Monica was ready to launch into a rant about the crutches.  
"Thanks"  
To his surprise, she scooted over onto her side of the bed without another word.  
"You okay?"  
"It's no use whining. I'm just going to have to get used to it"  
"They are only temporary"  
"I know"  
He put a hand against the back of her neck while she lay down with her head on the pillow.  
"Are you comfortable?", he asked.  
"I will be", she said.  
Lying on her back, Monica met his eyes and spread her arms up for him.  
With a smile, Spencer accepted the sweet invitation. He turned so that they were both lying on their sides. His chest heaving with relief, he hugged her tighter. He buried his face in her hair, kissing her shoulder and her neck.  
"I missed this", Monica sighed.  
"Me too"  
His hands roamed the entire length of her back. He hadn't been able to hug her for twenty-four days. Before he could stop himself, his arms pulled her even closer. Spencer had to remind himself her body was still recovering. He took a deep breath to focus. Monica kissed his earlobe.  
"Spencer..."  
Her saying his name had its usual effect on him. As much as it pained him, he tried to pull back.  
"You should..."  
Monica put a finger on his lips. At first he thought she was initiating foreplay. But then he felt it.  
She was _absolutely_ still. He could hear her heart beat, close as they were, but not another muscle moved in her body. She was holding her breath.  
"Wh..."  
She put her finger on his lips again. The immobility, the mastered control over every movement in her body - he was reminded again that the woman in his arms used to be a spy. That's when he realised she was listening. What for, he couldn't tell. Everything at her place was quiet as always.  
Monica went on holding her breath and listening for what felt like a really long time. It scared him so much he started counting the seconds.  
Ninety-seven seconds had gone by since he had started counting. In her condition, it could easily deprive her brain of oxygen.  
"Monica..."  
She didn't move. When he was on the verge of shouting, she relaxed. He was almost hypoventilating himself.  
"Sorry. I thought I heard something"  
She began breathing as usual, like she hadn't just held her breath for more than three minutes and seven seconds.  
"Don't you ever do that again", Spencer said.  
"Do what?"  
"That scary breath-holding, spy thing"  
"I just thought I heard something"  
"It's 12:00 AM, and you have a dog who won't move to save his life. What could you possibly hear?"  
"I don't know. I'm sorry"  
In an instant, Spencer realised his error.  
Granted, Monica did need to be careful with her condition. So far, she had been. But she had also suffered major trauma. She was back in the same place where a woman, one who had haunted her for years, had broken in and proceeded to torture her. If anything, she had a right to be paranoid.  
He tried to be sympathetic.  
"What did you think you heard?"  
"I don't know. Just some rustling"  
"Like, a person?"  
"No. No, I don't think so"  
"Do you want me to go check?"  
"No. It's nothing, I'm sure"  
"It's no trouble"  
"It's nothing. I was just... I don't know what came over me"  
Spencer said,  
"I understand"  
He looked into the eyes that were looking right into his. Monica gave him a small smile, telling him she knew what he was thinking. She touched his cheek.  
"Don't worry. I'm not letting her take away the comfort of my home. This is my house. If it has to be my warzone, so be it"  
It hadn't failed his notice how Monica never referred to Beatrice by her name ever since she had shot her. Distancing herself from the only time she had willfully hurt someone...  
"We should get some sleep", Monica said, "Dad has karaoke planned for tomorrow. You will need all the rest you can get"  
He smiled just a bit.  
"I think it's nice of your parents to throw you a welcome-home party"  
"Yeah? They were trying to invite your colleagues. I wouldn't let them. You'll thank me tomorrow"  
Her hand found its way in his hair and stayed there. Massaging his scalp with her fingertips, she said,  
"You know, about that thing you said a few days back, when I was in the hospital..."  
The baby thing.  
That was just a slip of the tongue. Or was it a Freudian slip? All he knew was he didn't want to talk about it.  
"I wanted you to know that I... I'm open to discussing it. But it will have to wait a while. When I can walk again, I'm going on a trip"  
 _That_ he wasn't prepared for.  
"Where?"  
"To see Nicole. I'm going to try to meet Veronica too"  
"So you're going to New York _and_ Seattle?"  
"On my way back from England"  
His heart sunk. As per his quick mental prediction, she would be going away for at least a month.  
"To meet your grandparents", he said.  
"That", Monica sighed, "And to train myself"  
"Training?"  
"I am rusty, Dr. Reid. I didn't even hear her climbing through the window and walking up behind me"  
She was referring to Beatrice.  
He said,  
"That's because I diverted your attention by coming in"  
Monica smiled at him.  
"Darling, my attention should be impervious to diversions. Especially when the distraction is as good-looking as you"  
"But..."  
He searched for an excuse to change her mind.  
"Don't worry. I won't be doing anything dangerous. I just... I would rather be prepared than be paranoid for the rest of my life"  
It came to him in a flash. He seized on the idea.  
"You could ask Elaine to train you! I mean, she's an expert. I have heard she's really good. She trained Roane's batch too"  
"The kind of training that will build back my confidence isn't imparted by law enforcement. No offence"  
"It can't be that different. You have your basic..."  
"Dr. Reid"  
He realised his heart was racing. Monica laid her hand on his cheek, making him close his eyes.  
 _'Why does she have to go?'_ , he thought helplessly.  
"I will be fine. I'm going to come back to you, safe and sound. I promise"  
His voice sounded weak.  
"I know it's an unreasonable thing to want but... I don't want you to be away from me. Not so far"  
"That's not unreasonable at all", she said, "I don't want to leave you either, darling, I love you. But I have to do this for myself"  
It was her way of coping. Be prepared. Never make the same mistake twice.  
"Besides, I'm going away next month", she smiled, "Until then, I'm all yours"  
He said under his breath,  
"Don't tempt me"  
That made her giggle. She said,  
"I mean it. I'm not stopping you"  
"Your legs are in a cast, and your neck movement is restricted. What could we possibly do?"  
Seeing her raise her eyebrows like that, he got the meaning.  
"That's not what I was trying to say. You..."  
"So you _have_ thought about it. Oh my. Spencer Reid..."  
"I haven't!", he lied.  
"Why not?", her hand slipped inside his t-shirt, "I have been wanting to do that to you for so long"  
"Monica, don't. Please", he said, "Not when you're like this"  
She was always respectful of his wants. He felt her hand slip out of his shirt and reach around to lie over his shoulder. Monica said,  
"One of these days, Spencer Reid, I'm going to wake you up with a blowjob and you're going to curse yourself and spend your nights in agony, wondering why didn't you let me do it sooner"  
Timid as a lamb on the exterior, but all raging testosterone within, he mumbled,  
"Good night"

* * *

At the Knight house, the lunch invitations had been limited to close family, thanks to Monica. Spencer matched her pace as they entered the house. The moment they saw her, Monica's family was upon them like a swarm of bees. He received more than four enthusiastic hugs. At the same time, he feared someone would accidentally knock Monica's crutches off balance. But she was still standing when the crowd departed.  
"Come, Spencer. Let me do the introductions", Mr. Knight was all smiles, "Children, meet Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is Mark Chatham, Audrey's husband. You have already met Daya. And this is the lovely Elaine Dawson, Cathy's wife. You two probably know each other"  
Agent Dawson gave him a nod and a smile.  
"SSA Dr. Spencer Reid - I have heard great things"  
"So have I. It's nice to finally meet you", he smiled.  
Mr. Knight said,  
"All right, enough standing around. Let's sit down. Everybody, take a seat. Make room for Monica. Come on, sweetie. You and Spencer can sit here"  
The family room was large enough to seat eleven people at once. Spencer sat down next to his girlfriend. Her brother came into the drawing room, his four-month old in his arms.  
"Look who's here, Giles. It's Auntie Monica"  
"Let me hold him", Monica reached her hands towards Max.  
"You sure?"  
"Yeah. Give him to me"  
Max laid Giles in his aunt's arms, who proceeded to speak to the baby in her softest tones.  
Max said,  
"Hey, Spencer"  
"Hey"  
He sat down next to him.  
"How is your shoulder?"  
"It's much better lately. Almost healed now, thanks"  
"Good to know, man. Did you go see that chiropractor I told you about?"  
"I did, yes"  
Max smiled,  
"Morley's a magic worker, right? He and I know each other from medical school"  
George came over from across the room, interrupting the conversation.  
"With a name like Giles, you're just setting up the little guy to be a supervillain, Maxim"  
He leaned over the back of the couch to make funny faces at his nephew. Catherine and Audrey crowded around the baby too. Monica held him closer to herself.  
"Hey, back off. You have all been with him since morning"  
Daya said from the other couch,  
"It's okay, Monica. Giles likes being the center of attention"  
When Spencer found the baby gurgling and grinning at their faces, he knew it was true. He noticed how happy Monica looked with a baby in her arms.  
 _'Stop that. Stop that right now'_ _  
_He tried to think of something else.  
Space. Dark matter. Black holes. The late Stephen Hawking. Death. The circle of life. Birth. A newborn. His and Monica's...  
 _'Jesus Christ!'_  
Dr. Fleming came back in with a tray of drinks for everyone.  
"Do you have any vodka, Mom?", Monica asked.  
Dr. Fleming just winked and patted her daughter's cheek in answer. She asked aloud,  
"Who wants to help me set up the table?"  
"Not me", George said.  
"I got your back, Mom", Max said.  
Elaine and Catherine offered too. The three joined Dr. Fleming on her way back to the kitchen.  
Mr. Knight said to Max's wife,  
"Daya, can you see what's wrong with my karaoke machine? It was working just fine yesterday"  
"Let me check"  
George came to take the baby from Monica.  
"Give him to me. Come on, Giles. We will go see Uncle George's old room. Do you like Dr. Who, buddy?"  
Spencer was left alone with Monica and Mark. She told him.  
"I'll be right back"  
"Where are you going?"  
"Bathroom"  
"Do you want me to come with..."  
"Sit down"  
He promptly did at the tone of her voice. Spencer watched Monica hobble over to the bathroom, using her crutches. How sweet she always was made him forget how stubborn she could be.

When Monica was gone, Mark made conversation.  
"Audrey told me you work for the FBI"  
Spencer turned to him and nodded.  
"I do. And you?"  
"I'm a 9 to 5 kind of guy, nothing glamorous"  
 _'Typical CIA'_ , Spencer thought.  
It was no secret that Audrey's husband worked at Langley. Monica had told him that Mark wasn't a field agent. But Mr. Knight had let slip once that his son-in-law had SCI clearance. It was impossible that Mark was just a desk jockey.  
"Is this your first time at one of Ted's get-togethers?", Mark asked.  
"Not really. I have been over for lunch before"  
"Lucky you"  
He couldn't resist asking.  
"You don't like get-togethers?"  
"I do. I just don't see the point to meeting your family so often", Mark spoke in confidential tones, "I mean these people are so much in each other's business. You would think they would get bored, but no. Because her parents like it, Audrey drags me along every month. Don't get me wrong. I like the Knights. I just don't think this level of co-dependence is healthy. It's just your family. What's the big deal?"  
It took some effort, but Spencer kept himself in check. He asked Mark,  
"Do you have a family?"  
"Of course I do"  
"Loving parents, devoted siblings?"  
"Yeah"  
"Whenever you came home from school, someone was always there to fix your lunch?"  
"Yeah but..."  
"You never had to open your Christmas presents alone, right?"  
"What are you trying to say? I don't understand"  
"Because you have taken your loved ones for granted for so long, I don't expect you to understand. But trust me", Spencer said, "I once knew a little boy who would have given anything to have a family like the Knights"  
Monica's coming put a halt to the conversation. He and Mark pretended like nothing had happened. She took her seat again, sniffing the air.  
"Do you guys smell potato? I need potato"  
Mark shared a look with Spencer before getting up. He gave a brotherly pat to Monica's shoulder as he walked by.  
"I'll go and make sure they have some"  
Seeing the affectionate way he treated Monica, Spencer supposed he shouldn't have been _that_ rude to Mark. From what she had told him, the man had always treated her like his own little sister. Spencer believed that anyone who was kind to Monica deserved his kindness too.  
His thoughts were disrupted by Monica's hand on his knee.  
"What's wrong?", she asked.  
"Nothing. Why?"  
"You just seem... introspective"  
He tried to play it off.  
"Aren't I always?"  
"Not like that. This isn't making you uncomfortable, is it? I know social gatherings aren't your thing..."  
"I'm fine"  
She didn't seem convinced. After a long look at his face, Monica said,  
"Mark takes some getting used to"  
"I don't know what you're talking about"  
"You should see him when he's around the kids - completely different guy. I wish you could have met Harper and Nathan. But she's studying for some, I quote "super important test, Mon". And Nathan is going through a phase where it's not cool for him to be seen with his parents in public"  
"What's Harper's test on?"  
"Geometry"  
George came into the room and said,  
"Come on, lovebirds. Lunch is ready. Mom's calling"  
When Monica was getting up, he said to Spencer,  
"If we beat the freak to the table, we might get some of the baked potatoes"  
Monica promptly jabbed George in the stomach with the bottom of her crutch, making him cry out.  
"Let's go", she said.  
Spencer watched George curling up on the floor and clutching his stomach, as they walked past him.

During the meal, conversation and wine flowed freely. Spencer wasn't a fan of drinking and neither was Monica. But he seemed to be enjoying himself nonetheless. Daya was telling him about the mechanics of her company's new invention when Mr. Knight tapped his glass with a spoon.  
"I would like to propose a toast", he smiled, "To my brave daughter, Monica"  
Monica just shook her head, smiling.  
"You have always been stronger than anyone I know. But I hope... and I pray that never may your strength be put to test again. I love you, honey"  
"Oh Dad", Monica smiled.  
Dr. Fleming squeezed her husband's hand as his eyes grew moist. Audrey raised her glass too.  
"I would like to make a toast to Monica as well. Mon, yours is the light by which our spirits shine. Let fate be as kind to you as you have always been to everyone"  
"Hear, hear", Mark said.  
Max took up the reigns. He cleared his throat.  
"Let us drink today to the health and life of my darling sister, Monica. I am so glad you are here with us today", he smiled, "Because ever since you have been back, I can't imagine any of our lives without you. I love you, sis"  
"Aw, Max"  
Max's sentimental toast had its effect on Daya as well. She put her arms around her husband and kissed his cheek.  
"I guess I have to do one of these too", George picked up his glass.  
Monica said,  
"Quick. Somebody smash that glass"  
George ignored the laughter and began.  
"Mon, since childhood's hour, you have been Little Miss Perfect. I know you to be smart, kind, and annoying as hell", he said, "But my little demon sister, until less than a month ago, I had no idea how brave you were. When Mom told us you were crazy about this guy - holy shit, she wasn't kidding"  
He got some more laughs.  
"You inspire me. You strengthen me. And you make me look better when you're standing next to me. So thank you"  
He deftly caught the napkin Monica threw at him. She sounded impatient as she said,  
"Thank you, everyone but George. Are we done now?"  
Catherine spoke up.  
"I would like to make a toast as well, but not to you"  
Raising her glass, she said,  
"To the man who reads Thomas Hardy and George Eliot to Monica. To the man who has made her happier than I have ever known her to be. To the man who risked his life trying to save hers. To the man who didn't leave her side even when we all believed she was gone..."  
Spencer lowered his eyes at their grateful glances. Monica held his hand under the table.  
"To the only man I know who is worthy of my sister's love", Catherine smiled, "To Spencer"  
"To Spencer", they all said.  
Monica raised her glass as well, giving him her best smile. It was enough to make Spencer's own eyes mist over. He had recalled the guilt of not having been able to protect Monica from Beatrice.  
Why could he never save the woman he loved?  
"Thank you"  
He avoided eye contact. Bless George for diverting everyone's attention.  
"Fantastic. I'm starving. Let's dig in! Hey, keep the potatoes away from Monica. I would like to taste some for a change"  
Lunch commenced. Spencer observed their usual bickering and felt uncomfortable no more.

* * *

The chatter was incessant in the family room. Spencer found himself talking to Elaine and keeping an eye on Monica at the same time. She was sitting with Max and Mark on either side of her. He noticed, not for the first time, that she looked most like Max. They had both inherited their father's green eyes and their mother's delicate facial features. He had only been staring at her for a few seconds when Monica turned and met his glance. Giving him a quick smile, she returned to her conversation.  
"All righty! We're hooked and ready", Mr. Knight announced.  
Spencer had never seen a grown man so fond of a karaoke machine. He didn't mind. Mr. Knight's enthusiasm was endearing.  
"Who wants to go first?", he said over their voices, "Okay, I'll go first!"  
George complained,  
"Dad, you always do this! It's not fair!"  
"Honey?", Mr. Knight said.  
On cue, Dr. Fleming blew him a kiss which he pretended to catch and hold against his heart. Their children made fun of them for that. Spencer tried, but he couldn't remember one instance where his parents had been half as affectionate towards each other. That was the only drawback of seeing Monica's family – they reminded him of what he had never had, but wanted almost to the brink of desperation.

As Mr. Knight's song came on, the room assumed a perfect silence. He looked grave, like he was going to sing a particularly important song. Mr. Knight sang the first words.  
 _"I don't like your little games, don't like your tilted stage..."_  
Applause and hooting followed. Monica exclaimed,  
"Are you serious?!"  
Spencer had no idea why they all found the song choice so enigmatic. Catherine and George sang along. Mr. Knight was taking his performance seriously. He turned his back to the audience, looked over and sang.  
 _"Ooh. Look what you made me do"_  
When Mr. Knight pretended to answer a call and said that the old Taylor couldn't come to the phone 'cause she was dead, the audience was nearly jumping in their seats.  
"Go, Dad!", Max howled.  
Monica was laughing so hard tears rolled down her cheek. Despite of having no idea what was so funny about the performance, Spencer enjoyed it immensely. The lyrics indicated that it was by a female singer. Maybe everyone appreciated the performer switch.  
"Aaand mic drop"  
Mr. Knight came to his seat and received numerous pats on his shoulders.  
"Who wants to go next?", Dr. Fleming asked.  
Daya suggested,  
"Elaine!"  
"Oh no way"  
They coaxed her but she wouldn't budge.  
"Come on! You know everyone has to sing!"  
"I'm not going up after _that_ performance!", she laughed.  
Spencer hadn't expected George to shout his name.  
"Yeah, Spencer!", Mr. Knight echoed.  
He was seized with immediate panic.  
"I-I don't really sing..."  
Damn George. He started a chant.  
"Spencer! Spencer! Spencer!"  
Looking to Monica for emotional support, he thought she seemed uncomfortable.  
"Guys..."  
Of course she was going to ask them to stop making her boyfriend feel uncomfortable. How many times did he have to tell her he didn't mind her family?  
Spencer got up in a flash before she could finish her sentence. Preemptory applause followed.  
When he approached the karaoke machine, he couldn't decide what genre to choose from. He chose one at last, knowing it was the kind of music Monica was familiar with. There was one song in there that seemed doable. He had grown up listening to music from that singer, thanks to his mother.  
"Hi", he said into the mic, "Um... I'm going to perform for you..."  
His heart calmed down a little when he focused on Monica's face.  
"Elvis Presley's... And I Love You So"  
"Woohoo!", Max cheered along with the others.  
George screamed like a fangirl,  
"I love you, Elvis!"  
"George, shut up and let him sing!"  
As the music began, Spencer tried to recall everything he knew about music and performing, especially that time he had sung karaoke with his team. The words slipped out of his mouth at the exact moment, in perfect sync with the music.  
 _"And I love you so, that people ask me how, how I've lived till now. I tell them I don't know..."_  
Holding the mic with both hands, Spencer gave his best to the song.  
 _"But life began again..."_  
He looked up at Monica. She was smiling so wide, he smiled too.  
 _"...the day you took my hand"_  
The Knight siblings, with the exception of Monica, did the background singing. Dr. Fleming and Mr. Knight were reverently shaking their heads from side to side. The woman he loved, she just sat watching him in complete awe. He had never known music could be such an intense form of communication between two people.

Generous were the compliments he received on his limited singing ability. Sitting on different couches, Spencer and Monica eyed each other through the rest of the performances. He couldn't help but laugh at the face she made when George performed and twerked to some song called _'Booty'_.  
When Elaine finished her surprisingly awesome rap performance, Mr. Knight walked to the machine, clapping his hands. He addressed the audience in his living room.  
"Wonderful. Just wonderful. And now, for the last performance of the day, I present to you - Monica Knight!"  
Spencer had thought she would put up some resistance. But apparently, karaoke principles were strictly adhered to by the Knights. When she moved to grab her crutches, he was at her side in an instant.  
"I got it", she told him.  
He watched Monica as she hobbled over to the mic. She leaned against the table the karaoke machine was on and leafed through the song choices.  
"I don't know what to sing", she turned to the audience.  
Suggestions, requests poured in torrents, to which Spencer added his own.  
"Could you sing that song you were singing on the morning of March 16?", he said.  
Everyone looked as baffled as Monica. She tried to smile.  
"I don't remember what I was singing then"  
How could she not remember? It was the morning after the first time they had made love. Spencer tried to remind her, without being too conspicuous.  
"You were making us breakfast in the kitchen. You were singing it to yourself"  
Daya tried to be helpful.  
"Do you remember any lyrics?"  
Of course he did. He recited them verbatim to Monica.  
"It was something like - in your arms I can still feel the way you want me when you..."  
"I got it"  
She gave him the look he knew too well. It told him she remembered _exactly_ now. And when she sang the song, her love for him poured through.  
 _"In your arms, I can still feel the way you want me when you hold me. I can still hear the words you whispered when you told me..."_  
He loved how she kept looking at him as she sang. Her voice sent him back to her bed on that morning, with the sheets a mess and the sound of her sweet voice reaching him from the kitchen. It felt like he only had to close his eyes to go back to that beautiful moment in time again.  
He was lying on his stomach, shirtless, wondering if the night before and the woman in the kitchen were just part of a dream. If he curled his fingers slightly, his fingertips could relive the feel of her skin, her hair.  
 _"Cause I'm keeping you forever and for always"_ , Monica kept smiling at him, _"We will be together all of our days. Want to wake up every morning to your sweet face..."_  
For some reason, he felt she meant every single word she sang.  
 _"...I'm keeping you forever and for always"_  
Come next month, that heartwarming smile wouldn't be within his reach. Monica winked at him when no one was looking. Spencer smiled.  
He already missed her.


	30. Steps

A/N: Thanks for the review, dear _Guest_! This one's a bit smut-y (not actual smut, which I would love to write but y'all never tell me if it's something you would like to read). Let me know if you like it. Thanks!

* * *

 _"You're the only person I've ever met who seems to have the faintest conception of what I mean when I say a thing"_

 _\- Virginia Woolf_

* * *

When he got back to his hotel room, Spencer checked his phone. His CCTV monitoring app showed him the insides of Monica's house. There was old Bubbly, breathing heavily on the drawing room floor. The yard was empty and tree leaves blew with the wind. A shadow passed through the kitchen. Spencer glanced at the view from the bedroom camera. Monica was nowhere to be seen. He switched the feed to his tablet and called her.  
No sooner did he hear the dial tone did Monica appear in her bedroom. She hobbled over to the bed, using both her crutches. He watched her pick up the phone and answer it.  
"Alyo, lyubimiy"  
Spencer said,  
"Don't try to Russian your way out of this. Did you ditch your crutches again?"  
"I did not. I'm using them right now"  
"I assume you have been trained to avoid CCTV cameras, but I can tell when you haven't been using your crutches"  
"What, you're watching me again?"  
"Yes, I'm watching you. If left unsupervised, you will try aerobics"  
"Jeez. It's like being on Big Brother"  
He said,  
"If you had let me stay to look after you, I wouldn't have had to do this"  
"I am completely fine! They already cut the casts off. I won't even need these stupid crutches by next week!"  
"You are anything but fine. You are recovering from multiple fractures and you have post traumatic headaches. Could you stop being so cavalier?"  
Monica rolled her eyes. He said,  
"I saw that"  
"Fine! I will use the damn crutches. But you owe me so much sex, I'm telling you..."  
"You are not supposed to have sex until Dr. Lopez clears you"  
"Dr. Lopez doesn't have a hot boyfriend who smells like peppermint and looks at my ass as if it were a piece of art!"  
Spencer couldn't believe he was saying it.  
"If you want me to look at your ass ever again, you will do exactly what Dr. Lopez told you to. Do you understand me?"  
Monica giggled. He couldn't help but smile.  
"What?"  
She giggled some more.  
"I made you say ass"  
"You. Are. Abominable"  
"You know you like it", she did her Iggy Azalea impression, "Wish that you could bite it..."  
"All right, stop. Just behave yourself"  
"Fiiiine, Mooomm"  
"I will call you as soon as I get back. Bye"  
"Hey wait. Are you doing your arm exercises?"  
He lied,  
"Yeah. I did a c..."  
"It takes ten minutes! Only ten minutes! Dr. Morley said you have to keep doing them for two more weeks. It's for your own good. Your body needs..."  
"I'm going to do them right now, okay? Stop worrying. Stop worrying"  
"Promise me you won't skip the physiotherapy exercises again"  
"I promise"  
"Good"  
"Bye now", Spencer said, "I love you"  
He could hear the happiness in her little laugh. He saw it on the screen too. Monica covered her face with one hand, grinning. He loved knowing he could make her blush. She finally looked up at the camera, still smiling.  
"I love you too. Bye"

* * *

 _Few Days Later -_

Spencer was sitting next to Monica as Dr. Lopez finished discussing the patient's current condition.  
"You're a tough bird, Monica. You are recovering faster than I had anticipated"  
"Yeah, that's all great. When can I have sex again?"  
Spencer pressed her hand under the table.  
"Monica...", he mumbled, thoroughly embarrassed.  
She ignored him. Dr. Lopez seemed amused.  
"Whenever you want. Nothing too strenuous though"  
"Got it", Monica smiled.  
She gave Spencer such a lecherous look, he blushed.

On their way home from the hospital, Spencer shifted in his seat as he drove. Monica was staring at him. Her gaze hovered over his chest, his arms; it flitted downwards. He caught her mid-stare and exclaimed,  
"Will you stop looking at me like that?"  
"Like what?"  
"Like a pervert!"  
"It's not my fault you're sexy!"  
He looked away from her to the road. They were passing by the grocery store.  
"Do you need anything from the store?"  
"Condoms"  
He sighed and kept on driving. Monica poked him.  
"What, you have some on you?"  
"Why would I... I don't"  
"Then let's get some. The last I checked, we were all out at my place"  
"Fine"  
He turned and pulled over before the grocery store. Unbuckling his seat, he told her,  
"You stay here. I'll be right back"  
"Get me some Graham crackers. I want to try making a dessert I saw on pinterest"  
"Okay"  
"The condoms", Monica said, "Ribbed. Strawberry or chocolate"  
Spencer sighed again. He turned to look at her.  
"Anything else?"  
She said,  
"Lube, just in case. Not that unflavoured stuff though. And a can of whipped cream. I need it for the dessert. And see if you can get a rope? My lemon tree is bending towards Wisteria Reid. I'll need some for alignment"  
Spencer gave her a look of disbelief.  
"Can you really not imagine what it's going to look like when I take all that stuff to the cash register?"  
She shrugged.  
"It's going to look like you're in for a fun night"  
He got flustered and stumbled out of the car. Monica could be heard laughing as he walked to the store.

On their return to Monica's place, she called from the door,  
"Bubbly boy, we're back!"  
Bubbly opened his eyes just enough to greet her with a moan and promptly fell asleep again. Monica hobbled over to the bedroom. Spencer watched her for a moment before heading to the kitchen. He put the shopping bag on her dinner table, taking out the lube and the condom packet.  
 _'What have you turned me into, Dr. Knight?'_  
There was no self-checkout counter at the store. The boy at the cash register had given him a respectful nod. It seemed funny now.  
Dr. Spencer Reid, having a sex life.  
Well, not for the last month anyway. He hadn't even let Monica make out with him since the time she had climbed on top off him in bed and fallen to the floor mid-kissing.  
It wasn't that he didn't miss the physical part of their relationship. Monica's well-being was more important.  
But apparently, tonight was the night. His abstinence would finally be over. Oh the things he had missed doing to her soft...  
"Dr. Reid?", she called in a lilting voice.  
He knew what that meant. She was ready for him.

Spencer was smiling to himself on the way to her bedroom. At the sight of her, he was struck with invisible inertia.  
Monica was standing by the bed, wearing one of his shirts. The shirt reached halfway down her creamy looking thighs. Monica raised her arms, showing him how the sleeves were too long for her.  
"I couldn't pick what nightdress to wear"  
He couldn't take his eyes off those thighs. Clearing his throat, he said,  
"It's a good look on you"  
Monica's knees looked much better too. Spencer knew he would be lavishing her legs with some well-deserved attention that night.  
"Stay right where you are", Monica said, "I'm 99% sure I can do this"  
"Do wha... Monica, no. No"  
"Just trust me. I got this"  
Without the aid of her crutches, Monica spread her arms and took some baby steps. She kept looking at him as she walked unassisted for the first time since her injury. Spencer watched her every movement like a hawk.  
"Careful", he warned her.  
She didn't stumble once. On reaching him, she let go of her balance. Spencer caught her in his arms. With a delicious smile, Monica looked up at his face.  
"I think I just fell for you", she said.  
"You're so cheesy"  
"I know I'm Gouda"  
Spencer smiled, supporting her by the waist.  
"You did well"  
"I'm going to ditch the crutches"  
"Monica..."  
"Dr. Lopez left the decision to me. Now I can walk"  
"You could only manage thirteen steps"  
"Still..."  
"Use a cane. No crutches. I know you hate them. But the cane will be there for support"  
"No way"  
"Please?"  
Monica glared at him. Spencer didn't blink.  
"Damn your puppy dog eyes", she grumbled, "Fine"  
He smiled at her.  
"You can use my cane"  
"You still have it?"  
"Yeah"  
"Can I make it look like Maleficent's staff?"  
"Sure. I'll help you"  
"Yay"  
Spencer moved his hands down her waist. A corner of his mouth rose in a smile.  
"Now, where were we?"  
Monica's eyes gleamed with desire. She brought her mouth closer to his and said,  
"Watch"

Getting out of his arms, Monica turned towards the bed. She raised her arms as she walked, leaving Spencer gazing hypnotically at her swinging hips. On reaching the bed, she turned and leaned against it. Her posture alone could have pulled him headlong towards her. She said in a British accent,  
"Are you ready for some non-strenuous shagging, Dr. Reid?"  
He grinned and walked to her. Monica bit her lip as he lifted her onto the bed.  
"That accent..."  
Spencer unbuttoned the shirt she wore. He finished his sentence,  
"You should use it more often"  
"Wait till you hear my Cockney. Oi posh boy, you bein' so buff..."  
"Do you _not_ want me to have sex with you?"  
"I do, sempai"  
"Good. Stop grabbing my butt. I'm trying to take my pants off"  
"You were just grabbing mine!"  
"That's different. Wait. Are you going to be able to... bend your knees?"  
"Not really. Wait. Sit down"  
"What are you..."  
"How about this?"  
Monica sat down on his lap, with her legs straight by his sides. She inched forward. It was enough to get him roaring inside.  
"Dr. Reid?"  
"It's good. Yeah", he choked.  
To him, she looked positively thrilled. He said in a soft voice,  
"Let me take that off"  
When he tried to tug the shirt off her, Monica clutched his hand so hard, he thought she might break it. Her stare was unflinching.  
"Don't. I like the shirt"  
Her hold on his hand relaxed. He tried to smile.  
"I just... I want to see you"  
Monica held apart the ends of the shirt. She told him,  
"Here you go. It's your favourite colour"  
Her wearing purple lingerie would have distracted him easily any other time, but her reluctance to take off that shirt was too odd.  
"Not like this. All of you"  
"Or maybe", Monica smiled and placed his hand on herself, "We should try something different tonight"  
He tried to block out what his hand was touching, had to. Spencer cleared his throat.  
"The shirt has to go"  
She gave him a disappointed look. When she made no attempt to take the shirt off, he touched her arm and watched for her micro expressions. She tensed up as his hand reached where her wound was. He didn't dare touch the part of the sleeve that was over the scab itself, not without asking her first.  
"Monica..."  
"I'm sorry for being weird", she finally said, "It just... it looks really bad. You know I'm neither self-conscious nor vain. But I don't want you to be looking at it while we are having sex"  
Spencer said,  
"It's an injury. It's almost healed"  
"It's never going to stop looking hideous though"  
"It is not hideous. I have seen it"  
"Why can't we just..."  
Monica tried to get off his lap. He didn't let go of his hold on her waist, making her look down into his eyes with surprise.  
Spencer said,  
"Take off your shirt"  
"Dr. Re..."  
"Please"  
He could almost see her resolve weaken at the tone of his voice. Monica did as told.  
God, he loved purple.  
"You're staring at my breasts again"  
Spencer raised his eyes to her face.  
"The thing is, Monica", he said, "no matter how bad your wound looks, it's not bad enough to distract me from everything else, which is... stunningly beautiful"  
"You don't have to say that"  
"This", he motioned to her wound, "...is what Derek would call a battle scar. You received that while trying to save me. If anything, the more I look at it, the more I'm going to remember how much you love me"  
"Spencer..."  
Monica's hands held his face.  
"You're too sweet for your own good"  
"Let me love you"  
Biting her lip, she said,  
"Does it look like I'm stopping you?"  
"You didn't say 'yes' expressly"  
"That turns me on so bad. Every time"  
Monica put her arms around his neck. She tilted her head to the side a bit, making her hair fall off her shoulder, making his heart almost stop.  
"Make love to me, Dr. Reid"  
Pleased with the situation, he smiled and kissed her. Monica's hand trailed down his body.  
"I missed being with you like this... _mm_... are you... somehow... bigger than I remember?"  
"No. I'm still average-sized"  
"Oh muffin-cake, you wouldn't say that if you were where I am right now..."


	31. Words

A/N: Ah my lovely _Guest_ , I am itching to write smut for this pairing. But the current storyline makes me postpone that. There _is_ a smut chapter in the near future though, promise.  
Thank you, everyone, for still reading this. Let me know what you think!

* * *

 _"I didn't mean to send love letters, but that is what they became. On their way to you, my words turned into heartbeats on the page"_

 _\- Lisa Kleypas_

* * *

The call had made him cease all activity. He was in the middle of cleaning his apartment. Perched on the armrest of his couch, wearing a rubber glove on one hand, lightly tapping the vacuum cleaner with his foot, Spencer talked.  
"...knew it had to be her. The general claim about dissociative identity disorder is that the patients gain peculiar characteristics, such as speaking in foreign tongues, revealing facts they have never known et cetera et cetera, but there is... wait. What was your question?"  
From the other end of the call, Monica said,  
"I asked how your day was going. But I don't mind. You were saying?"  
"No. I... I'm sorry. You know me. I love to keep rambling"  
"And you tend to do it a lot more when you're distressed. Everything okay?"  
Spencer didn't reply. He glanced at the glove he had discarded.  
"Dr. Reid?"  
He tried not to sound pathetic.  
"You're all the way there in England. I know we are used to staying apart because of my job but, I haven't seen you for the last twenty-three days. I miss you"  
"I know, and I'm sorry. I miss you too. I'm going to try to come back as soon as I can, okay? I promise"  
"Take your time"  
"You don't sound so sure about that"  
A guilty smile crept on to his face. Monica said,  
"Tell me what I can do to cheer you up. Anything"  
"You could tell me what kind of training you're undergoing"  
"Sometimes I forget you have mad interrogation skills"  
Spencer smiled.  
"And you're evading"  
"It's nothing special. Just brushing up on my Systema", Monica said, "And I am incorporating some Krav Maga with what I already know"  
Immediately, his mind conjured an image of Monica sparring. The fierce expression on her face, the pulsing veins in her biceps, her hair tied back, and her swinging kicks.  
"You're learning martial arts?", Spencer asked.  
"Yeah"  
"That's... that's kind of hot"  
Monica gave a little laugh.  
"Oh yeah? Maybe if you're lucky, I'll give you a _demonstration_ when I get back"  
He swung his foot, smiling.  
"I would like that"  
"Oh sweetums, I would whoop your cute little ass so bad"  
"I don't doubt it"  
She chuckled.  
"You're precious"  
He dodged the compliment by asking,  
"How are your grandparents?"  
"Well, Granny is great as ever. She has packed a whole bag of British sweets and teas for us. And my Grandpapa handpicked a couple of Russian Lit books for you. It's quite the honour, you know. Those are from his private collection"  
"Which books? 'Cause you know I already have _War and_... Uh, I mean... that's really nice of them. Tell them I said thanks"  
"Don't worry. You haven't read these. And I'll tell them. I'm going to see them again the day before I leave for Seattle"  
That didn't seem right.  
"You're going to Seattle first? New York is closer, in comparison"  
"I know. I just thought I could see Veronica first. That way I can tell Nicole how she is"  
"That makes sense"  
"Yep"  
Spencer listened carefully to her silence. He asked,  
"You okay?"  
"Yeah. Why?"  
"You don't sound excited about meeting your godchild"  
"Technically, I'm not her godmother by religion. Nicole and Paul just told me that's what I was"  
"It makes sense though. They wanted a good role model for their daughter, someone who cared about her"  
Monica said,  
"Someone who hasn't seen her since she was six months old"  
He was sympathetic.  
"Don't beat yourself up over it. These things happen. I didn't see Gideon for eight years after he left the BAU", he added, "But that's not really a good example"  
"No. It is. I know what you mean"  
He hated hearing her voice so devoid of emotion. If only he could hug her and kiss her face. That always seemed to cheer her up.  
Spencer asked,  
"Are you going to be okay?"  
"I'm fine, Dr. Reid. Don't worry about me. Speaking of not keeping in touch", Monica said, "Have you met Derek recently?"  
He admitted,  
"Not in a while. But it's Hank's birthday this week. I will see him then"  
"Good. Veronica's birthday is this month too. I am hoping to get out of here before that. It would be nice to see her on her birthday. Paul always makes a big deal out of birthdays. I could take some pictures and show those to Nicole"  
"I think she would like that"  
"She would"  
Again with the monotone.  
"Monica?"  
"Yeah?"  
Spencer almost pleaded.  
"Talk to me"  
She took her time to reply. At last, she did, confirming his doubts.  
"I haven't seen Nicole in a long time. It's bringing up a lot of guilt"  
"But you _are_ going to see her. Soon"  
"I know", she said, "Hey?"  
"What?"  
"Tell me you love me"  
Ever since her stay in the hospital, saying that over the phone had become their new favourite thing to do. Spencer smiled, as he said,  
"Monica, I love you"  
Her voice took on a softer tone.  
"Thank you. You have no idea how much that helps me"  
"Glad to be of service"  
"One more thing"  
"Sure"  
"Do Dirty Harry for me"  
Spencer laughed.  
"No!"  
"What? I like hearing you say 'punk'!"  
"You start laughing when I get to that part!"  
Great. She was laughing. And he was too.  
"You're doing it already!", he complained.  
"Okay!", Monica grinned, "No Dirty Harry"  
Glad to hear her sounding happy again, Spencer made a suggestion.  
"How about... you do Irene Adler for me instead?"  
"You sure? Don't blame me if you get a raging erection again"  
He turned red right up to the roots of his hair.  
"That...!", he was flustered, "That was because you were wearing the..."  
Another voice over the phone, from her end, interrupted the conversation.  
 _"If you're done giving phone head, muffin-tits, bring your tushie back inside. It's time for dinner"_  
Spencer was quick to ask,  
"Who is that?"  
He could tell Monica was smiling.  
"Helen, my trainer"  
"That sounded like a guy"  
Monica explained,  
"Still undergoing hormone therapy"  
Spencer said,  
"Okay. Is she good?"  
"The best I know. And Helen actually prefers "they". Listen, I have to get going. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Take good care of yourself"  
But they had only talked for... he checked.  
 _'Twenty-five minutes? How?'_  
Spencer reluctantly said,  
"You too"  
Monica sighed,  
"Bye"  
 _'Come back to me'_  
"Bye"


	32. Surprises

A/N: Thank you for your constant encouraging feedback, dear _Guest_. ^_^  
And thanks for your review, _FantasyLover2004_! I named George after a real person I know (who is even more of a clown than the fictional one), and I am glad you enjoy the character and the story as a whole. Thanks so much! :D

* * *

 _"Once again Love drives me on,_ _  
_ _that loosener of limbs,_ _  
_ _bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done"_ _  
_ _\- Sappho_

* * *

Spencer excused himself out of the briefing room of the Washington PD. He answered the call, a smile immediately blooming on his face.  
"Hi", he said.  
"Is this a bad time?"  
"No, no", he lied, "What's going on?"  
Monica's voice could barely be heard over the traffic.  
"I'm outside this toy shop but I have no clue what to get Veronica. What do you think a two-year old would like?"  
Spencer scanned his deep reserves of knowledge for ideas.  
The gift would have to be thoughtful and capable of stimulating the toddler's cognitive abilities. He had once read that the more basic the toy, the more it would encourage the child's creativity. And Monica would hate something generic like dolls, guns or noisy toys.  
He suggested,  
"How about building blocks?"  
"What if she already has those? I mean, all parents get their kids blocks to play with, right?"  
"It's probable. Well then... how about an abacus? Make sure it's colourful. Studies have shown that toddlers..."  
Monica cut him off.  
"Oh! I see it, I see it!"  
"What? What is it?"  
"It's a _giant_ fluffy bunny! Oh Doc, it's so cute I would buy it for Penelope!", she said, "I gotta go. Thanks so much for the help. You're the best! I love you. Bye!"  
"What do...", he grinned as she hung up, "Bye"  
Looking at his phone with amusement, Spencer was greeted by a homescreen image of Monica. In it she wore a floral crown, giving him a royal smirk. Good thing he had cropped Bubbly's depressing face out of the picture. He preferred an unobstructed view of Monica when she was being goofy and enthusiastic. He was glad Veronica could bring out that side of her gorgeous godmother.  
After smiling at his phone again, Spencer went back to work.

* * *

 _'110, Rolling Heights, Everett Street'_  
Monica had memorised Paul's address. He had given it to her the last time they had met, over a year ago.  
 _"Veronica still needs her Aunt Monica"_ , he had said.  
Too bad she didn't have his phone number anymore.  
Oh well. Maybe he would like the surprise visit.  
For as long as Monica could remember, she and Paul had always gotten along.  
Less so since he had cheated on Nicole.  
But there was still some substance to that high school friendship.  
 _'Here we go'_  
She carried the big bunny in her arms. Normally, Monica would have taken the elevator. But her recent training had inspired within her a newfound confidence.  
Climb ten flights of stairs with a giant stuffed toy in her arms - why not?

Monica took pride in the fact that she hadn't sweat a drop. Standing before No. 110, she prepared herself with a deep breath. She had expected children's noises and Paul's hurried supervisory tones coming from within. But it could be that the party was in the evening.  
Monica knocked on the door. She made herself smile, wanting to greet her old friend with a pleasant face. When he wouldn't open the door, she knocked again.  
A minute after, the door opened. Monica looked over the bunny's shoulder, trying to balance him on her thigh.  
"Yes?"  
The woman had to be Paul's wife, Veronica's stepmother - Natalie. Monica had almost not recognised her.  
"Natalie?", Monica said.  
Whipping her coarse mass of hair away from her face, Natalie peered closely at her. It took her a while.  
"Monica?"  
"Yeah"  
"What are you doing here?"  
"I...", Monica plastered a smile on her face and held up the bunny, "I'm here to see Veronica. Where's Paul?"  
Natalie told her what her dishevelled appearance, the dark circles under her eyes, and the general aura of despair should have revealed.  
"Paul died"

* * *

Natalie picked up cereal boxes and snack wrappers from the floor. She said,  
"Excuse the mess. Ever since she started walking, it's like this place refuses to be clean. Come in"  
Monica followed her into the drawing room. The apartment was a reflection of Natalie. Disarrayed, messy, sad.  
"Have a seat", she said, "You want something to drink?"  
"No, thank you"  
Monica placed the bunny on top of a pile of newspapers on the sofa chair. Its presence seemed almost obscene in that place. Someone was dead and the bunny looked like it knew nothing but joy.  
Natalie was still tidying up, as well as she could, when Monica asked,  
"Can I see Veronica?"  
"Yeah. She's in her room. The one on the right. There"  
"Thank you"  
True to her compartmentalising nature, Monica put grieving on hold and proceeded to see her godchild first. Paul was gone. Nicole was in no condition to be a functioning mother. And Natalie...  
All thoughts escaped her when she saw the little girl. Sitting in her crib, Veronica's back was to the open door. The sight of her filled the godmother's heart with such intense affection, she smiled.  
It didn't escape Monica's notice that the nursery was as messy as the rest of the apartment. For the moment, she chose to ignore it. However, as she got closer, she saw the big cream-coloured stain on Veronica's t-shirt.  
"Hey sweetheart", Monica said.  
The baby turned towards the sound, keeping her plaything in her mouth. It was some anti-bacterial ointment tube. Monica gently pried it out of Veronica's mouth and hands.  
"That's not for eating, Veronica. Can I take that? Thank you"  
The toddler turned around completely to face this new visitor. Monica smiled at the pink face and little nose.  
"Do you remember me? It's Monica"  
Veronica made a baby noise and pointed to the ointment tube.  
"Where?"  
Monica threw it away discreetly. She held up her hands to show Veronica.  
"Where did it go?"  
The surprise apparent on the little one's face made her happy. Maybe like her Auntie Monica, Veronica enjoyed magic too.  
"If that's the case, you would love Uncle Spencer", Monica said, "Do you want to come out? Come on"  
Veronica held the bars of her crib and stood up. She didn't protest when Monica took her out of the crib and into her arms.  
"Oh sweetheart. I had no idea how much I had missed you"  
With Veronica perched on her arm, Monica walked out of the nursery into the drawing room.

Natalie had occupied the other sofa chair, leaving Monica to sit on the couch or the floor. She nursed a glass of clear liquid with both hands.  
"For the life of me, I can't make her take a nap", Natalie said and took a sip.  
Monica sat down on the couch, with Veronica on her lap. Veronica's golden-brown curls tickled Monica's chin as the toddler threw her head back before slipping out of her arms.  
Natalie observed,  
"She saw the bunny"  
Monica watched Veronica pull down the stuffed bunny to the floor. It was twice her size.  
Content with the sight, Monica took her time before asking.  
"How did it happen? And when?"  
Natalie rubbed her temples and took a swig from her glass.  
"About a month ago. Car accident on the freeway. He was rushing home from work"  
"He took up a job?", Monica said, "I thought he worked from home. What about his business?"  
"Not doing so good. We were in debt. We had to sell the house and move in here"  
Paul had never breathed a word to her about his financial difficulties.  
"I am sorry"  
Natalie sniffed and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She then wiped that hand against the front of her shirt.  
"When was the funeral?"  
"Three days later"  
"Why didn't anyone call me?"  
"I tried. I couldn't reach you on your cell"  
Monica remembered the time when she had crushed her SIM card into pieces, that day when Lawrence had told her about Beatrice's return.  
She said,  
"Sorry. I changed it and forgot to send Paul the new number"  
Natalie nodded. Monica asked, as carefully as she could,  
"Does Nicole know?"  
That was enough to make Natalie crumble. Lines appeared on her tired face, conveying her pain. Covering her face, she hunched over and wept.  
"Natalie", Monica tried, "Come on now. Veronica might see you. Don't cry"  
When she looked up again, her face was smeared with tears. She shook and sobbed. Monica waited for her tears to subside.  
"Do you think...", Natalie whimpered, "Paul and I were punished for what we did to her?"  
Monica would rather not say. Natalie went on.  
"I was her friend. She was sick, and instead of being there for her, I comforted Paul. I... slept with him and... I..."  
Monica said,  
"What happened between you three is in the past. It's not going to help you in any way now. Paul's gone"  
Natalie nodded, wiping her tears.  
"After their divorce", she said, "...when Paul and I went to see her, Nicole told me my happiness wouldn't last long. That... what I had stolen from her would never make me..."  
"She is ill. You can't take her words to heart. You know that"  
"But Paul died. God punished us both for abandoning Nicole"  
"That's not..."  
She cried some more. Monica didn't make another effort to stop her.

It had been a while since they had sat down to talk, and Veronica had found her new bunny. The child hadn't looked at her stepmother once. She seemed to be in her own world. That worried Monica.  
Thankfully, Natalie's crying appeared to be a bit under control. Monica asked, trying not to sound indelicate,  
"Does she ask for Paul?"  
"Who?"  
"Veronica"  
"She can't really talk. She can say a few words but that's it. Paul was going to take her to a speech therapist. When she's sleepy though, she gets antsy if he's not around. It hasn't been easy lately, trying to make her sleep and eat"  
"She does look a little thin"  
"Paul always fed her. I'm...", Natalie hesitated, "I'm not really good with kids"  
"How are you going to take care of her?"  
"I have to. She's Paul's daughter"  
Monica glanced at Veronica before saying,  
"Not yours"  
Natalie drank from her glass.  
"That's not what I meant. She's all I have left of him. I did love him, you know. I loved him so..."  
"You're not fit to raise her, Natalie, no offence. Not from what I see"  
That yielded the expected reaction. Natalie swore and exclaimed, banging her glass down on the table,  
"How dare you? Who the hell do you think you are? Coming into my house and telling me I am not fit to raise her?!"  
"It is obvious that you have been drinking all morning. You're still grieving. You forget to clean up. You forget to change her clothes and bathe her. I'm sure you're doing your best, but it's not enough. You can't even call her by her name"  
Natalie barked back,  
"That doesn't mean I don't love her! She is my responsibility! Who else is going to raise her? Paul's dying father? His gay freak of a brother? Nicole's dead family? Who?!"  
"You shouldn't have to raise a child just because it's your responsibility. The question is - _can_ you raise her?"  
"I know damn well I can. I don't need you to tell me what I can and can't do"  
Monica watched her for a moment. She said, gently,  
"Today's her birthday"  
Natalie looked like she had been scalded with hot water. She shook her head in denial.  
"No, it's not"  
Monica glanced at the calendar, where Paul had written in his bold script - **"NICA'S B'DAY!"** \- on the 11th.  
Natalie followed her glance. She saw it and trembled. Her lip jutted forward with emotion.  
"Oh God", she sobbed, "Oh my God..."  
Monica watched her break down into a fit of crying again. At the other end of the room, Veronica buried her face in the bunny's chest, hugging him and babbling. The little girl was oblivious to the chaos in her life.


	33. Coincidences

A/N: Thank you for that lovely review, _Sofia_! That was so sweet of you to say! I am really glad you are enjoying this story. Thanks again. ^_^

Some pretty strong language in this chapter. Hope y'all don't mind. Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading. :)

* * *

 _"I'm not perfect. Remember that, and try to forgive me when I fail you"_ _  
_ _\- Elizabeth Lowell_

* * *

 _New York City_ _, New York -_

St. Anna's Home seemed smaller than the last time she remembered. The room she was sitting in seemed less spacious too. She would have to ask Dr. Reid why her perception had altered. He would have the answer, of course.  
"Miss Knight?"  
Monica stood up. The psychiatrist asked her,  
"Do you remember my instructions?"  
"Yes"  
"One of our staff will be with you throughout the meeting"  
"I understand"  
Dr. Wyatt turned to go. Monica took her seat across the table.  
A thousand thoughts plagued her mind. She was fully conscious of everything that had transpired over the last few days. Her conscience was clean. And yet she believed she had wronged someone, a person she loved and respected.  
 _'I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul'_  
She recalled her favourite lines. They always fuelled her with strength and hope.  
It was a desperate attempt to make peace with her own decisions.

Within a few minutes, her best friend walked in, flanked by two orderlies on both sides. Her heart almost jumped out to meet Nicole halfway.  
Nicole grinned.  
"Look what the cat dragged in"  
Monica rose and hugged her.  
"It's so good to see you"  
"Same here"  
They parted smiling, taking opposite chairs across from each other. Monica watched her friend to her heart's content.  
Life had never been kind to Nicole. More so since she had been diagnosed with a host of mental illnesses. Her brown eyes were weary and fatigued. Her wan face had a faraway smile. She had lost so much weight, her nightgown looked like it was hanging on her. Pretty much like Veronica, who was quite small for her age, Nicole looked like a young girl forced into the role of an ill-fated older woman.  
She asked,  
"How have you been?"  
"Quite well. You?"  
"Same old, same old. How's your boyfriend, the genius?"  
Monica could never help a smile when he was mentioned.  
"He is great"  
"Good to know. It still feels weird though, Saint Monica dating"  
"I have dated before"  
"Your Green Club buddies in high school don't count"  
That made her grin. Nicole seemed to be in a good mood, much better than the last time. Monica held her hand that was on the table.  
So small and frail.  
"I am sorry I don't visit often. But it's really good to see you", she said.  
"Don't worry about it. It's not like I'm alone here. I have made new friends. Dr. Wyatt let me draw this week. Here"  
Nicole slipped a hand inside the pocket of her robe. She brought out a folded piece of paper and spread it out on the table. It didn't take Monica a second glance to know whose sketch it was. The light curly hair, the little nose, that toothless grin - Veronica, as her mother had seen her last.  
Monica said,  
"This is almost as beautiful as the real thing"  
Nicole smiled at the sketch. She lifted it to her mouth and kissed it.  
"You know why I named her Veronica?"  
Monica had an inkling, but she said,  
"No"  
"I named her after my two favourite people - my Mama Vera, and my best friend Monica"  
Since the subject had already come up, and Dr. Wyatt had only allowed her an hour, the time seemed right for the big reveal.  
"I went to see Veronica this week"  
Nicole's demeanour changed completely. Her face lost all signs of calm. She wrung her hands under the table. Her lower lip trembled as she spoke.  
"On-on her birthday?"  
"Yes"  
"She is two years old now"  
"She is"  
A tear streaked down Nicole's face. She wiped it away with haste.  
"Does she remember me? Paul promised he wouldn't let her forget who I was"  
"About Paul, Nicole... he was in an accident"  
"What accident?"  
"A collision on the freeway", Monica paused, "He passed away on the spot"  
"He is dead?"  
Monica nodded. Nicole put away the page in her pocket. She asked,  
"So... Natalie is looking after Veronica now?"  
"For the while"  
"What do you mean?"  
Monica sighed.  
"It's likely that she will be declared incompetent by a court soon. To raise Veronica, I mean"  
Nicole scratched her neck. She opened her mouth to speak again and again, but couldn't get the words out. Finally, she said,  
"And my baby will go into foster care"  
"No..."  
"This is all your fault", Nicole mumbled.  
Monica didn't defend herself. Nicole's voice rose.  
"All your fault. I told you to take care of my baby. I told you. Paul and I put it in our will. You agreed. Why would you agree if you couldn't do it?"  
"Nic..."  
 _ **"CAUSE YOU'RE A FUCKING BITCH, THAT'S WHY!"**_  
Nicole threw back the chair and launched herself at Monica across the table. She aimed her hands at Monica's throat, cursing and screaming. But Monica held her at bay. The orderly came to them.  
"We are fine", she told him, "I got her"  
Though Nicole put all her strength into it, Monica was stronger. She kept holding her friend's hands by the wrists.  
"Sweetie, come on now. Take a deep breath", she said.  
Nicole tried to get at her again. Monica kept holding her, telling her it was okay.

When her violent efforts yielded nothing, Nicole started crying. The orderly helped her sit back down. She shook all over as she sobbed.  
"You don't fucking care about me or my baby. You got out of here. You took my life and you got out of here. I'm the pretty one! I was the one who was supposed to get a life! Not you! Fuck you!"  
Monica listened in silence. Her best friend went on crying and accusing her of things she had never done.  
"I hope you burn in hell, you cunt. I hope you get chopped up under a fucking train. You don't give a shit"  
"Nicole..."  
She cried some more.  
"No one cares about my baby. No one fucking cares"  
"I'm taking her home with me"  
Stunned into a strange silence, Nicole seemed to weigh those words for a long time. She couldn't have looked more surprised if someone had struck her in the face.  
At length, she asked,  
"For how long?"  
"Forever", Monica said, "Natalie has enough problems of her own. She can't look after Veronica. I asked Audrey and she made some calls. This Thursday, a judge is going to make me Veronica's guardian. I hope that's okay with you"  
Almost swatting at her tears, Nicole spoke. Her hands spasmed out of control.  
"Of course. Of course. Who better to look after her than you? I knew you wouldn't abandon my baby, Mon. I knew it"  
Smiling at the effort her friend made to appear rational, Monica ignored her own misgivings. She watched Nicole fidget with her fingers.  
"Could you...", Nicole asked, "Could you bring her to meet me? Please? I-I-I will be good. I won't even touch her if you don't want me to"  
"She's your daughter. Of course I will bring her to see you. Veronica deserves to grow up knowing her mother"  
Nicole's face lit up with a smile. She crossed herself and thanked God.  
She clutched Monica's hand in both of hers and kissed it.  
Nicole whimpered.  
"Thank you"  
"Don't. I love her too. I am going to do right by her, Nicole, I promise you"  
She seemed convinced. Now crying in joy, Nicole bent her head over Monica's hand and thanked her over and over again.

At last.  
When she was out in the open air, she could breathe. Her heart beat so fast she feared she would collapse. It was only just hitting her what she had done. The conversation with Nicole finally made it real.  
 _'I am going to raise Veronica'_  
Monica was a realist to her core. Though her decision had been motivated mostly by sentiment, she had no fantasies about raising a child. It was not going to be easy.  
She would have to get a full-time job. She would probably have to move to a neighbourhood with better schools. She would have to give up her house. More loans, more challenges.  
Raising a child was a thing of forever. All of her own dreams would be on the back burner again.  
There were a thousand things to think about.  
Most of all, Veronica deserved a parent. And Monica had no idea how to be one.

Sitting on that stone stairwell, she turned to the one person who could calm her down. More than anyone else, he deserved to know about this massive turnabout in her life. She had wronged him by keeping him in the dark.  
There was no putting it off anymore. She had to tell him.  
 _"This is Dr. Spencer Reid. Leave a message"_  
Her breath hitched.  
How was she to tell him?  
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Monica left him the dreaded message.  
"Hey. I hope your day's going well. Are you still in Virginia? Something has come up. I'm in New York right now, but I'm flying back to Seattle in a few hours. I'm gonna have to stay there for a few more days. I... I think I better tell you this in person. Could you come see me in Seattle? I'll text you the address for where I am staying. Call me when you get this", she sighed, "I love you so much. Bye"

* * *

 _Washington D.C., earlier that day -_

Spencer had avoided geneticists since... well. He knew it was a weird thing to do. But he had never trusted another expert's opinion since Maeve. Even if she were alive, how could he have asked her to advise him on this?  
"It's nothing to worry about, Dr. Reid. The possibility is less than 30%. Alzheimer's and schizophrenia may be genetic, but it doesn't mean that a child absolutely _will_ inherit it. The..."  
Imagine, he thought, asking Maeve if his and Monica's biological children would inherit his family's less-appealing traits. He liked to think Maeve would have been happy for him. She would have told him he deserved kids.  
"You and your wife can..."  
"My girlfriend", Spencer corrected Dr. Helberg.  
She smiled and tried her best to ease his fears. Half the work had already been done by his mind.  
Spencer wanted to have a kid with Monica so badly he was willing to take the gamble.  
He didn't just want to raise a kid anymore. He wanted to _have_ it. And he wanted the child to have things that were distinctly theirs.  
He wanted one with her eyes, her smile, her athletic ability, his brains. Monica's brains weren't half bad either.  
The image of a green-eyed baby, dressed in a sweater vest and khakis, calling him "Dad" - it made his heart swell with love.

As he walked out of Dr. Helberg's office, he was ready. Ready to tell Monica what he wanted, ready to shower her with love and attention for nine months, ready to baby-proof a new house, ready to be with her in the delivery room. And more than ready to see her glowing and smiling, as she carried their child to term.  
Now all he had to do was ask her if she was ready too.

* * *

 _"Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humor, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible"_ _  
_ _\- Lisa Kleypas_


	34. Beginnings

_"I saw that you were perfect, and so I loved you. Then I saw that you were not perfect and I loved you even more"_ _  
_ _\- Angelita Lim_

* * *

 _Quantico, VA_

Stuck with a cold case, the Behavioral Analysis Unit of FBI sought for other interests. Matt was the only one who didn't seem bored. They had overheard him telling his wife on the phone that he would be home early that evening. Penelope joined them in the bullpen, holding a cup of warm tea.  
Luke said aloud what was pretty much on everyone's mind.  
"Anybody know why Reid didn't come in today?"  
Garcia said,  
"Something personal came up"  
Tara enquired,  
"Is his Mom okay?"  
"It's not her. Spence had to go out of town", JJ said, "What for, he wouldn't say"  
Luke said,  
"Maybe his cute girlfriend sneaked him away for a long weekend"  
At that utterance, Matt dropped what he was doing and turned his chair around to look at his co-worker. JJ raised her eyebrows in amusement.  
Garcia shook her head at Luke.  
"Uh-uh. Way out of your league, newb"  
"What?", Luke said, "That's not what I... wait. What do you mean she's _way_ out of my league?"  
"For starters, she has a doctorate. And you...", Penelope waved her hand at him.  
Fighting a bemused grin, Luke encouraged her with his eyes to finish that sentence. Her hand hung in mid-air. She withdrew it, looking slightly embarrassed.  
He knew insulting someone outright didn't come easily to Penelope. So he egged her on.  
"She's out of my league because she has a doctorate and I...?"  
"That's not... not what..."  
Luke shrugged, his shoulders tightening against the white shirt he was wearing.  
" _You_ don't have a doctorate. Does that mean _you_ are in my league?"  
It was all he could do to not burst into a laugh as she bit her lip, turning a furious shade of pink.  
"I...", Garcia pointed at him, looking at the others, "This-this is why I don't come out of my fluff-cave anymore"  
Her heels tapped against the floor as she swept past Luke, not responding to the facial expressions of her friends. Matt said to Luke, sounding exasperated,  
"Why do you do it?"  
Luke just turned in his seat with his back to them, so they couldn't see the lovestruck grin on his face.

* * *

 _Seattle, WA_

Monica hadn't been able to sleep a wink. Natalie had invited her to stay with them while she was in Seattle. And she had accepted, to save money on the hotel room and to get familiar with Veronica.  
Throughout the night, she found herself checking in on Veronica as she slept. By the time Natalie realised the batteries in the baby monitor had run out, it was midnight, and neither of them was willing to drive to the store. Instead, Monica read a book and kept an eye on the toddler.  
 _'Is this going to be my life?'_  
Of course not, she reasoned with herself. Veronica was not going to be a baby forever. She would grow. Grow up. Turn into a smart, beautiful kid. Someone who could terrorise Monica just by being a few minutes late in coming home.  
 _'I can do this. I can. I am going to'_  
She rubbed her eyes, which were tired from exhaustion and from the way she kept them trained on the road. Dr. Reid could be arriving any second. Never had his coming induced such anxiety in her before.  
 _'Patience'_ , she reminded herself.  
Folding her arms over her chest, Monica walked along the length of the steps. She sensed something and turned her neck. In a moment, he was within her sight. Her body, her entire being, seemed to relax on seeing him. His easy gait, his perfect hair, his tall form, his excellent intellect, his loving heart - what was she doing to him?  
Dr. Reid looked up from his phone towards the building. Monica saw his gaze land upon her and a smile appear on his face. She went to him.  
"Thank you so much for coming"  
She hugged him. His arm went around her.  
"Of course. You okay? Let me look at you"  
"I'm fine"  
He held and inspected her face anyway. His presence worked like an antidote to her fatigue. They had been apart for too long. On impulse, Monica kissed him. Dr. Reid kissed her back, caressing the side of her face with his fingertips. He pulled away and Monica almost sighed. As he gazed on her again, his expression turned sober.  
"You haven't been sleeping. Is everything okay?"  
"I'll tell you", she said, "Let's go inside"  
Monica held his arm and they walked to the elevator.

Inside Paul's apartment, they were greeted by Natalie. Monica was glad that the widow didn't look as worse anymore. She even managed to give a small smile to her new visitor.  
"This is Natalie Bandoni, Paul's wife. Natalie, this is my boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid"  
"Hi"  
Natalie gave him a nod. Her hands were occupied, folding clothes. She picked up a pile of them from the couch and said,  
"I'll be inside if you need me"  
"Yeah", Monica said.  
When Natalie had gone in, Monica took the time to observe Dr. Reid. He was looking around the apartment. His gaze lingered over the packed boxes. He asked,  
"Are they moving?"  
"Natalie is"  
"What about your friend? And Veronica?"  
Monica stepped back towards the couch. She kept her voice even. She said,  
"Sit with me"  
He did. But his face was masked with questions.  
"What's going on?", he asked.  
Monica didn't stall.  
"Paul died"  
She paced her words evenly, as Spencer took her hand in his.  
"Car accident. Last month. I didn't know about it until I came here"  
"I am sorry. Why didn't you tell me sooner? I knew something was wrong"  
"It's not that", she said, "When I came here on Monday, Veronica's birthday as you remember, Natalie was a mess. She still is. I just made her take a shower. I talked things out with her and her sister"  
Monica shook her head.  
"She can't look after Veronica, Dr. Reid. Not in her mental and physical state. More importantly, she doesn't want to. She didn't admit it at first, because she is still grieving for Paul, but she doesn't have what it takes to raise a child. I saw that on the very first day. I made her call her sister. She and I talked to Natalie, made her realise she needed help. She is going to move in with her sister and try AA"  
"But what about Veronica?"  
Nerves of steel crumbled with the weight of what she had to confess.  
"Legally, after Nicole and Paul, and their immediate family, I have a right to claim Veronica as my ward. Since Nicole has no living family in the US, and Paul's family can't look after her..."  
"You have to become Veronica's guardian", he said.  
Dr. Reid looked surprised. He had the right to be.  
If only she didn't know him so well. Perhaps then, she couldn't have detected that slight hint of disappointment in his voice.  
Monica took a deep breath.  
"I already am. On Thursday, the Court appointed me as Veronica's sole guardian. There were some conditions, since I'm not her kin by blood. Child Services will check in once in a while but that's all"  
Confident though she was about her decision, she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes for a long time. She was afraid he would see her actions as a betrayal again. She had kept him in the dark, adopted a child. It would not be too irrational for him to assume Monica didn't value their relationship enough.  
"Before you say anything", she began, "I am sorry I didn't tell you. There wasn't much time. Natalie's drinking is getting worse. If I hadn't gone to court, sooner or later Veronica would have been sent to foster care. Nobody wants to take her in. I wish I had come here before. Maybe I could have helped Natalie in time. But, Paul and Nicole made a will when Veronica was born. They expressly stated in it that if anything were to happen to both of them, Veronica would be my responsibility. I signed that document two years ago. And I meant it when I promised them I would honour my commitment. But this isn't about my heroic sense of responsibility or about me being sentimental. Veronica is the child of two people whom I loved very much. I _want_ to do this. I am not asking you to just accept this massive change. I am only asking you to forgive me for keeping this from you for the last few days"  
When she looked up, he didn't seem affected by her apology. He only seemed thoughtful. When he tried to pull back his hand, Monica held on to it stubbornly.

Spencer looked her in the eye at last. He asked,  
"What did you think my reaction to this would be?"  
She said,  
"I know you well enough to assume that you wouldn't hate me for doing the right thing, especially when a child is involved"  
"But you thought I'd still be upset"  
"Yes"  
"Why?"  
He gave her an incredulous look.  
"Why would you think that I wouldn't _"accept this massive change"_? What makes you think this would affect our relationship adversely?"  
"Because it _is_ a massive change. It changes everything about me. The reality is..."  
He interrupted her.  
"The reality is that I love you and any child that is somehow yours is mine too"  
She should have known. Monica shook her head, trying her best not to give in to emotion.  
"No. This is not your responsibility. I made this decision and it's completely on me. I can't do this to you"  
Spencer almost exclaimed,  
"Why do you want to do this alone?"  
"I don't", she sighed, "But I can't ask this of you"  
Monica passed her thumb over his knuckles. She held onto his hand like it was the anchor to her ship.  
"Raising a child is momentous. It's a _huge_ deal. I know you will be a great parent. You will be the best Dad ever. But the truth is we have been dating for only a year. We talk about forever, but we have never actually sat down and discussed it. We don't have a plan for us"  
"Here's a plan", Spencer said, "You be Veronica's guardian and I will co-parent her with you"  
She warned him.  
"This is not going to be as easy as you think"  
He gave her a wary look.  
"Monica, I get to raise a child with the woman I love. I don't care if it's the hardest thing in the world, I'm going to do it"  
"But..."  
She couldn't come up with another excuse. There was no plausible reason as to why she shouldn't let him help her raise Veronica.  
She asked,  
"What if we want to have kids of our own one day? I know you said you don't want kids that are biologically yours but what if we decide to adopt? Or something else"  
If she hadn't looked away just then, Monica would have noticed his melancholy smile. When she looked at him again, Spencer's smile was brave. He tucked her hair behind her ear. He said,  
"This isn't much different than that"  
Monica knew the answer but still she asked,  
"You really want to raise a child with me?"  
"I do"  
"Isn't it too soon?"  
He gave her a faint smile. His tone was nostalgic.  
"Do you remember the time we went to the Koshland Science Museum?"  
 _'Like it was yesterday'_ , she wished to say.  
He went on.  
"You dragged me along after I read some of the anonymous feedback my students had left. I didn't want to talk about it, so you tried to take my mind off it. They were putting up an exhibit about Edison, and you argued with the curator that they should be putting up a Tesla exhibit instead. When they didn't listen, you wrote 'Thief' and drew weird, cartoon features on Edison's face on the poster"  
She gave a wry smile.  
"You were laughing so loud the security guard came and we had to make a run for it"  
He nodded, smiling.  
"Yeah"  
Monica leaned into his hand as he held it against her cheek. Spencer smiled.  
"In that moment, I knew. After all I had been through, if anyone could make me happy again, it was you", he said, "This is it for me, Monica. You're it. People spend years with each other and they still don't know if they belong together. I don't need that much time. It may as well be today what is going to happen tomorrow. Let me be with you. I promise I'll be the best parent I can be. I'll be with you and Veronica every step of..."  
There was no need for her to hear the rest. Monica leaned forward and kissed him. When she drew back, everything was as it should be.  
Monica smiled at him.  
"Let's do it", she said.  
He didn't look like he believed her.  
"Yeah?"  
"Yes"  
"You sure?"  
"Mm-hm"  
"Okay"  
"Okay"  
"There are so many things to consider. Like the fact you only have one bedroom", he rambled on, "And we will have to find a good paediatrician, a day..."  
"Slow down, motormouth", she grinned, "You're under my regime now and we are going to do this at a comfortable pace. Don't you want to meet her first?"  
Nodding, Spencer broke into a smile so wide his teeth showed. With such an excess amount of happiness evident on their faces, Monica was sure they looked like a couple of kids who had no idea what they were in for.  
It didn't matter though. He was by her side. Everything else would just fall in place.

 _'We are going to raise a child'_  
Part of him believed it was still a dream. After Maeve's death, he hadn't allowed himself to hope for this. But _this_ was happening. He was going to raise a child, and with no other but Monica.  
Veronica couldn't have asked for a better guardian. Monica's strength of character, her kindness, her patience, her intellect, her wit - the child would be benefitting from all of it.  
It still niggled him somewhat that Veronica was not theirs in the truest sense. Despite of all he had allowed himself to hope for lately, he didn't resent her arrival in their life. And there was no way he would tell Monica any soon of his recent change of heart. The guilt would crush her. Or make her rush into something she didn't want yet.  
He would pretend for now that he had never consulted Dr. Helberg. When the time was right, he would modify the speech he had thought up. He would tell her the little one's presence in their life had made him want kids which were even more like Veronica's Aunt Monica.  
Their kids. Siblings for Veronica.  
"Hello"  
Monica's voice made Spencer look up from the floor. And it was love at first sight.

Holding Monica's hand, not deeming him worthy of a second glance, was Veronica. She bore no resemblance to the woman that walked by her side. The light brown hair, the brown eyes, the round face, and those little hands and feet - how unfortunate were her parents that they couldn't be with this cherub in human form. In their misfortune, he recognised his own luck.  
Spencer couldn't stop smiling. Though not in name, he was going to be a parent. At last.  
"Hi", he said.  
Sitting on the couch between him and Monica, Veronica didn't pay him any attention.  
"Look who it is. Say hi to Spencer, Nica"  
"Hello, Veronica"  
His voice was laden with emotion. Monica took Veronica's curled fist and put it on his face. Veronica looked at him then. Her little fingers spreading themselves on his cheek were no less warm than sunshine. She babbled something in baby-speak, patting his cheek. Spencer grinned, unable to tear his gaze away from her curious eyes.  
Monica kissed the top of Veronica's head.  
"We are going home, sweetheart"

* * *

 _"Little souls find their way to you, whether they are from your womb or someone else's"_ _  
_ _\- Sheryl Crow_


	35. Daddies

_"Daddy, I have had to kill you._ _  
_ _You died before I had time —_ _  
_ _Marble-heavy, a bag full of God"_ _  
_ _\- Sylvia Plath_

* * *

"Booboo"  
Monica asked her,  
"Do you want to say 'bunny'?"  
Veronica garbled,  
"Bubby"  
"Bunny's too big to sit with us, sweetheart. You can have Bunny when we get home"  
Veronica made another desperate attempt.  
"Bubby!"  
Monica tried reasoning with the two-year old. It had the equivalent effect of talking a potato into boiling.  
Veronica's eyes rounded into limpid pools. Her lips formed a heartbreaking pout. Any second now, the dam would burst.  
"Oh no", Monica muttered.  
Before the toddler could launch into a full-blown fit of crying, Spencer Reid saved the day.  
"Hey. Veronica, look!"  
He showed her his pen, holding it between two of his fingers. With a practised ease, Spencer made the pen disappear. Along with Veronica's pout.  
He gasped.  
"Where did it go?"  
She stared at his outstretched hands in surprise. Her facial expression made him grin. Exclaiming something in baby-speak, Veronica grabbed Spencer's hands and crawled onto his lap from Monica's.  
The man sitting next to them on the plane smiled. He said,  
"She's a Daddy's girl, isn't she?"  
Spencer and Monica shared smiles of their own.  
"She definitely is", Monica said.

They were going home. Veronica was busy sitting on Spencer's lap, playing with his pen and its cap. Monica watched them with tired eyes and a pleasant smile. She thought of a new nickname for her boyfriend - the Pied Piper. He had such a way with children.  
Veronica had definitely clung to him more in the last two days than she had to Monica. Perhaps, he reminded her of her late father. But Paul had been blonde, had medium height and a beer gut. Spencer, on the other hand, was tall, lean, with golden-brown hair, and abs so hot one could melt butter on them.  
How the heck could he look even sexier when he was around children? Some maternal psychological instinct about his suitability as a father, maybe. His warm smile, his soft voice, his encouraging yet not condescending manner... aww! He was letting Veronica draw on his hand. Monica thought,  
 _'I could just eat you up, Spencer Reid'_  
That had been her original plan on returning from England. She had been away from him for so long, it would have had taken the strength of ten African elephants to keep her from jumping his bones. However, the universe never did give a sheep about her plans.  
She had come home to the US three years ago, hoping for a quiet, ordinary life. But then she had listened to Dr. Reid talk about English poetry and blown it. Monica had tried her best to control her feelings for him. She had _planned_ not to fall in love with him until they had been dating for at least a year. And yet again - **boom**.  
 _"Can we have sex?"_  
He had asked her that as they lay in her bed. Her mouth had betrayed her before she could think.  
 _"Yes"_  
He had drawn her close to him and kissed her forehead. Then his lips had reached for hers. He had whispered, like it was the most delightful discovery his hands had ever made.  
 _"You're so soft"_  
Head over heels, knees over ears - she had fallen for him every which way possible. Life had never been the same since she had met Spencer Reid.  
"Do you want to take a nap, Veronica? Oh! Monica, look, look, look", he whispered, "She's yawning!"  
And now she was sitting in a plane, with him and a little girl she hadn't birthed, going home to raise her as their own.  
The universe was a bastard. She didn't complain anymore though. She had Dr. Reid, and now Veronica too.

Rubbing her eyes and nose with one hand, Veronica let her head fall back against Spencer's chest. She stubbornly refused to close her eyes. That was until he started smoothing her hair across her head. In a minute, the eyes closed and her breathing became slow and relaxed.  
Monica said to him,  
"You are a professional"  
Spencer smiled down at Veronica and then up at Monica.  
"I have babysat Henry and Hank on occasion"  
"Thank goodness for that. My experience in dealing with kids comes from Harper and Nathan. And they were both over 10 by the time I got a chance to babysit them"  
His hand rested on Veronica in a firm yet gentle manner. Monica felt his other hand cupping her own cheek.  
Dr. Reid said,  
"You look exhausted. You should take a nap too. I got her"  
"I will", Monica sighed sleepily, "Did you talk to Derek yet?"  
"Yeah. He said he knows a good contractor he sometimes works with. I'm going to see him tomorrow"  
"Good. The sooner we get the renovation started, the sooner we can move into my place. I'll get you a plan drawn for the new rooms before you go to see the guy"  
She remembered.  
"Did you call your super..."  
Spencer assured her,  
"Yes. I even sent him a picture of your Dad. He said he'll text me when your Dad picks up the key"  
"Okay"  
He asked,  
"How long did your Dad say it would take?"  
"Less than an hour. Don't worry. Dad's an expert at baby-proofing now. He did it for our place when I was born, and then twice for Audrey's kids. He will be out of your apartment long before we get there"  
"That's not what I meant"  
"I know. Just saying"  
Her lids began to droop. Her shoulders held so much tension they had begun to slouch. She leaned back against her seat fully. Sleep was just within her reach. Dr. Reid's voice washed over her like a tide in some faraway dream.  
"You look adorable when you are tired"

* * *

 _"This is not going to be as easy as you think"_  
Monica had warned him.  
Well no shit, Dr. Knight.  
Spencer was certain his body hated him. He was sore and tired. Oh god so tired.  
"I'm home", he called.  
The first few times, saying that had filled him with incomparable joy. That one sentence would bring Monica into the drawing room. Her presence had only enriched their life in his apartment. She didn't change a thing, brought with her no feminine touches. He hadn't shut up lately when talking about her to his friends. They were finally living together!  
And now he didn't even wait for her welcome-home kiss.  
He dropped his satchel on the table and then dropped himself on the couch. Monica walked into the drawing room from within, holding the phone to her ear.  
"I talked to Bob and he said we can drill a..."  
She was talking to someone from the renovation crew at her old place. She stopped by the couch long enough to plant a quick kiss on Spencer's forehead and moved away before he could grab her. Her jeans were a perfect fit for those lithe legs and that magnificent butt. Monica bent to pick up some toy from the floor, exposing her bite-able waist hidden under the short top. Spencer thought,  
 _'How is it possible to be so aroused by so little when I'm so tired?'_  
Between work and Veronica, and the renovation sometimes, he was exhausted to the core. He had begun to fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.  
Monica still looked tantalising at a few feet of distance from him.  
 _'We haven't had sex since she came back to the US. Forty-seven days'_  
If he had had it in him, he would have gotten off the couch and pulled her down to the carpet right there.  
 _'Maybe some other time'_  
Chasing serial killers and a toddler who loved sharp, shiny things didn't leave much room for a compelling libido. He was grateful to Monica though, for managing everything so efficiently. She was doing even more than he was.  
Cooking, cleaning, all the chores, checking the renovation process, looking after Veronica all the time, looking for a job. And when he crawled into his bed at night, she was there every time to take him in her arms. In his eyes, his girlfriend put superheroes to shame.  
When it came to Veronica, Monica's parents had been a big help as well.  
 _'It does take a village'_

Spencer was about to fall asleep on the couch. Monica's voice, as she talked on the phone, served as a sweet lullaby. His shoulders sagged and his eyes closed.  
"Boo!"  
The voice he had come to treasure over the last nine days roused him immediately. He opened his eyes and saw his heart's delight hugging his knees. Veronica was grinning up at him. She looked like a different child from the one he had seen in the apartment in Seattle. Now there was a cute little barrette in her neatly combed hair. She wore her bunny t-shirt and shorts, hopping by his feet. The colour in her cheeks, the growing plumpness in her arms and thighs - she wasn't an ignored toddler anymore. In fact, in so little time, she had become the centre of their world.  
"Boo!"  
She tried to scare him again. All his fatigue, all of his sleep, all of his woes - Spencer was drained of them in an instant. He pretended to be scared, drawing back from her. Veronica threw her head back and laughed. Though he knew it was impossible, he feared he would burst with all the love he was feeling.  
"Hi"  
Spencer lifted her up into his arms.  
"Hi, Veronica. Did you miss me? Did you miss Spencer?"  
He held her close to him, kissing her cheek. Her only reply was a smitten grin. It made him grin too. His attention turned to Monica, who couldn't help smiling at them even when she was on the phone. Spencer turned to Veronica again. He asked,  
"Were you a good girl while I was gone?"  
"Gone"  
That was her first lucid word he had ever heard. Overjoyed, he asked her to repeat it again. Veronica played with the buttons on his sweater vest.  
"Daddy gone", she said.  
Without his knowing, his gaze turned to the framed picture Monica had put up on the mantle. A smiling man with blonde hair, and a beautiful brunette in his arms - Veronica's parents. He was almost overcome with pity.  
Spencer told her,  
"Your Daddy loved you very much, Nica"  
She poked him in the chest, grinning.  
"Daddy"  
His heart sunk.  
No. It couldn't be. He wouldn't let himself believe it. She couldn't possibly be calling _him_ Daddy.  
Then why was hearing that one word from her enough to make him choke back a sob?  
"No", Spencer whispered.  
He pointed to Paul and Nicole's picture.  
"There's Daddy"  
"Daddy?", Veronica said.  
"Yeah, look. That's him. That's Daddy"  
As if it was her favourite word in the world, Veronica grabbed his shirt and bounced on his arm, saying,  
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"  
Spencer set her down on the couch. He hadn't noticed Monica standing by them until she spoke. She was looking at his face as she asked,  
"What's wrong?"  
He said, with a pang of regret,  
"Tell her she can't call me Daddy"  
Monica smiled.  
"Why not?"  
"What do you mean 'why not'? Her father is..."  
He couldn't finish the sentence in Veronica's presence. Monica reasoned with him.  
"Maybe she will stop when she's older, when we tell her about her parents"  
"But..."  
"Wait"  
Monica crouched down by the couch and asked Veronica,  
"Veronica, where is Daddy?"  
The little girl promptly pointed at Spencer, saying,  
"Daddy"  
He wasn't bothered by the look Monica gave him. Veronica rapidly climbed onto his lap and then his shoulder. Guilt-ridden, he sighed.  
"It's not fair to her actual father"  
"Would it be fair to _her_ to make her stop calling you Daddy when she loves you so much?"  
Monica and her sound reasoning. Sometimes he wondered why she had to be so smart.  
Giving his girlfriend a begrudging smile, he turned to Veronica. She had one leg thrown over the couch and the other over his shoulder.  
"Is that true, Veronica? You love me?"  
She tugged at a fistful of his hair in answer. It induced a sharp pain but Spencer laughed.  
"Ouch!"  
He turned to Monica. She was grinning too as she said,  
"That means - deal with it"

* * *

A/N: Leave me a review if you please. Thanks for reading!


	36. Priorities

A/N: Thank you for the feedback, sonnetStar! So glad you liked the last chapter. :D

* * *

 _"We will keep you, little one,_ _  
_ _safe from harm._ _  
_ _Like an extra arm,_ _  
_ _you are a part of us"_ _  
_ _\- Laura Marling_

* * *

Emily had been merciful enough to give him the weekend off while the others were working. Another man in his position wouldn't have been able to remember the last time he had been so relaxed. But Spencer could. The last time he had felt this relaxed was after Monica had begun to walk again and had ridden him into an earth-shattering orgasm. The earth hadn't literally shattered, thankfully, but it had sure felt like that at the time.

That morning, Spencer lifted a delicious cup of brew to his mouth. The coffee slithered down his throat, forming a warm pool in his stomach. He walked out of the kitchen into the drawing room.  
"Good girl! Now what's this?"  
Seeing his Mom help Veronica with her speech exercises, it was the perfect beginning to his morning. It was Monica who had suggested that Diana stay over for the weekend, especially since he would be able to actually spend some time with her.  
"Good morning, Spencie!"  
He smiled back at his mother's gleeful greeting. She immediately pointed to him and asked the little girl next to her –  
"Now who's that, Veronica?"  
The moment she saw he was up and awake, Veronica got off the couch and ran to him. She exclaimed,  
"Isht Daddy!"  
He put the cup of coffee away before she jumped on him. Veronica was lifted in his arms mid-jump. His mother prompted her with a smile.  
"What do we say to Daddy in the morning, Veronica?"  
She threw her arms around his neck, yelling happily,  
"Goor mowning, Daddy!"  
He kissed her cheek.  
"Good morning, my little heart. Are you having fun with Grandma?"  
Veronica nodded her head vigorously. His mother said, in a voice full of emotion,  
"Grandma"  
She smiled as Veronica went back to her.  
"She is the best thing that has happened to you in a while, Spencer", Diana winked, "After Monica, of course"  
That made him smile, and remember - Monica had a job interview in a few hours. Grabbing his cup of coffee again, Spencer walked to the bedroom. Maybe he could help her with something.

He had expected to see her putting her meticulously neat file folder on the table. Despite of all the recent changes in their lives, Monica hadn't lost her effective organisation skills. And he found it almost therapeutic to watch her performing her morning and evening routine. Watching a woman as she brushed her hair or got ready for the day, it felt more intimate to him than a kiss.  
He called on not finding her in the room,  
"Monica?"  
That's when he heard the shower in the bathroom turn off. In a couple of moments, Monica stepped out.  
"Hey", she said.  
A fresh smell of exotic fruits and soap clouded his senses when she walked past him. Monica had the habit of putting her underwear on in the bathroom itself. He could see the straps of her pink bra above the towel she had wrapped around. When she took the towel off and draped it across the chair, Spencer choked and scalded his tongue with the hot coffee.  
Monica talked as she... he didn't notice what she was actually doing. Her spectacular body demanded all of his attention.  
"...university is a coveted..."  
Her limbs were sinewy and muscled. She must have trained pretty hard in England because _wow_.  
Spencer brushed his hair away from his face to get a clearer view. Monica's curves were somehow more pronounced now. He had seen her naked before, but this was like the world's best 4D show. And god, how many squats must she have done for her butt to look that firm?  
"I'm so glad the house is finally done. Now we just have to wait for the paint to..."  
She turned to him when putting on her pants.  
Abs. She had abs.  
He was pretty sure that's what those taut ridges were. His mouth gaped open, wanting to be dragged along the contours of his girlfriend's body.  
"Dr. Reid?"  
Her breasts were as lovely as ever. They rose like plump half-moons over the cups of her bra. He licked his lips without knowing, remembering the feel of them against his mouth.  
"Oh my god"  
When he could finally tear his gaze away from her semi-naked body, Spencer saw Monica was staring at him. She said,  
"I am so sorry"  
He didn't have a smidgen of a clue as to what she was talking about.  
"What?", he asked.  
Not putting on her shirt just yet, Monica walked to him in three long strides. She grabbed his face and kissed him full on the lips. And he came alive.

Holding her by the bare waist, Spencer kissed her back in kind. His tongue slipped into her mouth, relishing the sweet taste of it. He took her lower lip between both of his, kissed and suckled on it like he were tasting honeydew. The tips of his fingers grazed her sensitive waist. Her damp, smooth skin was warm to his touch. His thumb traced the edge of her pants below her navel.  
"Mm", Monica said, "Naughty"  
He could have shown her just how much...  
Monica leaned forward, the swell of her breasts against his chest a tempting distraction.  
"I hadn't realised we haven't had sex in so long. I am very sorry"  
"It's okay", he said.  
Maybe she wouldn't mind being a little late for the interview. He was certain unclasping the bra she was wearing would be beneficial to them both.  
Monica said,  
"I'll make it up to you soon, I promise"  
Soon? He didn't have time for "soon". His ears were flaming and buzzing and his pants were strained against his crotch.  
"Mo..."  
"We had breakfast while you slept in and you can..."  
The irrational part of him, which he found hard to suppress that morning, didn't want to hear the rest. He was hot for her smoking body and she was committing the mortal sin of covering it up with work formals.  
Monica brushed her hair, applied the watermelon-flavoured lip balm to her lips, and turned. Spencer had to admit she looked plenty cute with her clothes on too. It was hard to believe he hadn't thought much of her looks the first time he had seen her. Now he supposed he had -  
 _'The eyes of love'_  
Monica grabbed her bag and walked into the drawing room, making him sigh. His eyes of love followed her around the apartment until she kissed Veronica and him, and left.

* * *

 _Few Days Later –_

Her parents had brought over champagne when she told them the good news. Dr. Monica Knight was going to be teaching Botany again at the American University in DC.  
"Now we need to find a good playschool for Veronica"  
She had told them. Mr. Knight had said,  
"Come on, honey. We can watch her while you're at work"  
Monica wouldn't hear any of it.  
"No way. You two will spoil her rotten. Mom? Mom, did you just slip her a cookie? She already had a few of those"  
Spencer's involvement in the search was limited, since he spent the next few days out of town with the BAU.  
JJ and Matt had been plenty helpful in giving him advice for selecting the best day-care and babysitters. On the BAU jet, he would now be reading child care books as well as the brochures Monica sent him.

He was talking to her on the phone one evening. They had decided on the playschool that was closest to her house.  
"I'm not questioning your judgment, Monica, but it can't hurt to wait until I meet them"  
"I have to start work from Monday _and_ supervise the moving. You don't know for sure when you'll get here, right? So let me handle things"  
"You're handling everything", Spencer sighed, "I feel bad about it"  
"Don't. It's all under control. Now the only thing left to do is your packing. I'll leave that for you to do when you come home"  
"Okay"  
She asked,  
"What's wrong?"  
Everything was happening fast, all the changes. Monica had taken over everything in his absence, proving she was better at all the domestic stuff than he was. But he couldn't tell her that. He wasn't the egotistical, ungrateful kind.  
"I just miss you two", he said.  
"And we miss you. Today, Veronica was pretending to talk to you on the phone. It was adorable"  
He smiled.  
"What was she saying?"  
"Just making adorable noises. I got it all on video. I'll send it to you"  
"Thanks. Hey?"  
"Yeah"  
He smiled in an altogether different manner.  
"You look great. I mean, the other day. You... you're toned"  
"Toned?"  
"Yeah"  
"Just toned?"  
He cleared his throat, blushing.  
"And..."  
She was definitely grinning on the other end.  
"Say it"  
Spencer lowered his voice. He said,  
"Sexy"  
"What? I didn't hear you"  
"You are such a..."  
"I didn't hear you, Doc. What did you say I was?"  
"Sexy. You are sexy! You happy?"  
Monica laughed on the other end.  
"It's like hearing a baby say fuck"  
"This is why I don't say that word. Or do that whole dirty talk thing. You make fun of me!"  
"I'm sorry! It's just too cute"  
He laughed.  
"I am a 38-year old man! There is nothing cute about me anymore"  
"Yeah, right. Mrs. Swan didn't think so when she saw your photo on Veronica's application. I am pretty sure she thinks you're a student of mine whom I seduced"  
"That brings back a memory, actually"  
"Which one?"  
He said softly,  
"When we role-played as..."  
From the other end of the bullpen, Emily motioned to him to join them. He sighed.  
"We are about to deliver the profile. I have to go"  
"Okay. I hope you catch the UnSub soon. Bye"  
He said,  
"Bye. I love you"  
He grinned on hearing her loud smooch.  
" _Muaahh!_ I love you too. Bye"

* * *

 _A week later –_

Finally.  
She was so glad to be back home. No matter how hard she had tried, Dr. Reid's apartment had never seemed like home to her. This house, with its clean air, the smell of fruit from the garden, and enough room for Veronica to run around and play - this was home to Monica.  
"Good morning"  
His sleepy voice. He kissed her shoulder from behind, one arm holding her close to him.  
"Morning"  
Monica smiled and turned to him. Dr. Reid still had his eyes closed. She traced the slope of his nose with her finger.  
"Did you sleep well?", she asked.  
"Hm"  
"Still sleepy?"  
She watched him fight a smile, and felt him pull her close. His hand was inside her slip.  
"Not so sleepy then", Monica said.  
Dr. Reid's arm encircled her waist, pulling her tight against him. She threw her head back and smiled when he nuzzled her neck. He said against her collarbone,  
"I have waited so long for this"  
Any endearments she could have bestowed on him were cut short by a faint noise.  
"What's wrong?", Dr. Reid asked.  
The sound was followed by Bubbly barking.  
Bubbly could bark? He sounded afraid.

Monica threw the covers off herself and got out of bed. Her heart sunk as Veronica's cries reached her ears. Dr. Reid rushed past her out of the room.  
"What were you thinking?! Oh god", Dr. Reid called, "Monica! Monica!"  
She entered Veronica's room and found him sitting on the floor. Veronica was blubbering, while Dr. Reid soothed her, rocked her back and forth in his arms. Bubbly sat panting by the foot of Veronica's crib.  
"She was trying to get out of the crib", Spencer told Monica, "Please get some ice"  
"Let me look at it"  
Monica crouched down next to them.  
"What happened, sweetheart?"  
She gently turned Veronica's face to hers. The toddler sobbed.  
"Nica fall"  
"Oh my darling. You should wait for Monica or Daddy to get you out. Let me see"  
Monica examined her forehead for bumps or a fresh bruise.  
Nothing. She asked,  
"How did you fall down, baby?"  
Veronica quickly demonstrated. Dr. Reid said,  
"She braced herself on her hands. Thank god"  
He wiped Veronica's tears and kissed her cheek.  
"Smart girl. Good girl. But don't you ever do this to Daddy again, okay?"  
Now that she knew there was almost no damage, Monica relaxed. She said,  
"She's a little scared, but fine. And she's a kid. She's going to fall and bump into things all the time"  
"Not on my watch", he said.  
That made her laugh a bit.  
"You can't protect her from every single..."  
He said curtly,  
"Watch me"  
Smiling, Monica drew her knees up and laid her head sideways on her arms. She watched the duo make a big deal out of the lack of an injury.  
"Does it hurt? Here?"  
"Nica fall"  
Dr. Reid hugged her tight.  
"Nica never fall again. And if Nica tries to get out of her crib again, Daddy will be very upset, okay?"  
She realised it was the moment that finally decided their parenting approach - he, the fun loving and sympathetic parent, and she, the disciplinarian.  
"Veronica is a brave, strong girl", Monica stroked her hair, "She won't hurt herself. Right, Nica?"  
Veronica was more responsive to Dr. Reid's coddling. She hugged his neck. They looked like a father-daughter pair from a poster for some tragic movie.  
"Oh come on"  
Monica rose. She affected an authoritarian manner.  
"I want you both to brush your teeth and come to the breakfast table. Enough crying over the booboo"  
Dr. Reid gave her a look of surprise.  
"What's wrong with you? She just fell out of her crib"  
"She is not hurt. And she is going to fall out of it again. That's what kids do", Monica said, "Veronica, go with Daddy and brush your teeth, sweetie"  
Veronica got out of his embrace and held his hand.  
"Daddy, bwush"  
Daddy followed her out of the nursery. He cast a disapproving look over his shoulder at his insensitive girlfriend. Monica just shook her head and grinned. She looked down at Bubbly with a smile. She had been right to choose him after all.  
"You love her too, don't you, old boy?"  
Bubbly closed his eyes, still panting.

* * *

A/N: Don't forget to leave a review. Thanks!


	37. Treasures

_"He was now in that state of fire that she loved. She wanted to be burnt"_ _  
_ _\- Anaïs Nin_

* * *

He saw murder and evil daily in his line of work. Everyone in the BAU did. But despite of it all, Spencer believed life had become kinder to him again. Everyone he loved was well. Veronica was flourishing in her playschool. She had begun to use prepositions. And she could count up to thirty now.  
"Veronica? Veronica... don't punch Bunny"  
He was keeping an eye on her while he got ready for work. Monica had left for the university at 7:30 AM, as usual, which left him with the task of getting Veronica ready for playschool. His little hellion was definitely a morning person.  
"Hey, hey!", he gently pulled her away, "Bunny's your friend. We don't kick our friends"  
Veronica explained.  
"Bunny an' Nica play fight"  
"Fighting is not nice. Now sit straight. Daddy has to do your hair"  
He made her sit before him. She asked,  
"Can we play Hayuh Salon, Daddy?"  
He was smiling as he turned her around.  
"Maybe tomorrow"  
Spencer prided himself on being a self-taught man. But no matter how many tutorials he watched online, he hadn't been able to figure out how to do a little girl's hair right. It took Dr. Knight's expert coaching.  
 _'One hand by the base of her hair and only downward motions'_  
Monica's voice guided him from his memory as he combed the tangles out. He listened with genuine interest to Veronica's chatter about her friends. In a few minutes, he had coiffed her curly hair into two pigtails, bows and all. Spencer asked,  
"Is that okay?"  
Veronica dashed towards the dresser mirror, saw her reflection and gave him a grin.  
"Yeah!"  
She added, in the manner Monica had made her recite,  
"Thank you, Daddy!"  
He smiled and grabbed his wristwatch.  
"You're welcome. Now go get your bag"  
"Okay!"  
Spencer picked up her beloved Bunny from the floor and took him to the drawing room. Veronica came dancing and bouncing, with her bag over her shoulders.  
He grabbed the keys and hit the alarm code in the dial next to the door.  
"Say bye to Bunny and Bubbly"  
"Bye, Bunny! Bye, Bubby!"  
Veronica kissed Bunny goodbye. She blew another kiss to Bubbly, who was watching them from the floor. Veronica was immediately by Spencer's side again, holding his hand. They stepped out of the door to start with the day.

* * *

In the evening, he got the check-in call from Monica.  
"Nah. I got home a while ago", she said, "How's your day going?"  
"Not bad. How was yours?"  
"Pretty boring. Nothing worth mentioning"  
"Come on. You know you can tell me"  
She exhaled a long sigh.  
"Well, I had classes back to back from 8:00 am to 2:30 pm. When I thought I could sit down to lunch, the Dean called an emergency meeting which lasted three hours. Then I picked up Veronica from playschool, took us both to get some ice-cream. Then I got a call from Bob, saying he had to check on the new plumbing. So he dropped by a while ago. Then Veronica and I had a nice warm bath, after which I ended up doing the laundry. To continue my oh-so-exciting streak, I finished cooking early too. Then I called and checked up on our mothers, checked in with Nicole's psychiatrist, talked to Max on skype to feel a little better, and now I'm sitting on the couch. You asleep yet?"  
"I'm actually amazed. That sounds exhausting"  
"I can handle it"  
"I know", he sounded grateful, "But I don't know how you do it. You are..."  
"Just a regular human being, who does not want to be praised. If you want to thank me, there are other ways"  
He smiled.  
"Yeah?"  
"Mm-hm. Maybe try not to nod off when I put my hands in your pants next time"  
There was a tone of amusement in her voice, but Spencer couldn't stop feeling guilty. Their on-going abstinence had been as much the fault of his unconventional work hours as her almost 18-hour day.  
"I'm sorry I haven't been the most affectionate boyfriend lately"  
"It's okay. I am sorry too"  
As if to uplift his mood, she said,  
"Hang on a second... _Veronica, do you want to talk to Daddy?_ "  
He could hear his little heart's reply.  
 _"I'm busy!"_  
Spencer grinned.  
"What was that about?"  
Monica told him,  
"She is making Bunny fight her other toys. Looks pretty intense"  
"Where did she pick that up? She never mentioned fighting before today"  
"At the playschool, I guess. She even called me a doodiehead today, when I wouldn't let her sit on Bubbly's back"  
Spencer smothered a laugh. He said, more for her sake,  
"You told her that's a bad word though, right?"  
"I did. She made it up to me later by giving me a bouquet from the garden. And guess which flowers caught her eye?"  
"Not the bloodroot"  
"The bloodroot, yes"  
Amused by their daughter's antics, he smiled. That plant was one of Monica's prized possessions.  
"How did she figure out the door?"  
"She didn't. She insisted that I take her out in the yard. Then she pointed to the bloodroot flowers and asked me to pick them"  
Spencer was surprised.  
" _You_ plucked the flowers? You have been trying to cultivate that plant for over a year"  
"I know", Monica groaned, "But she wanted those flowers specifically. My will power for denying isn't as strong when it comes to her"  
"Touché", he smiled.  
She said about Veronica,  
"She could have scraped herself on the net if I hadn't been there. And the doodiehead thing, it's still bugging me. I mean it's funny but..."  
"I would say it's a lesser evil compared to her interest in fighting"  
"Nica isn't violent, don't worry. And this is nothing. When George and I were little, we wrestled. I would pretend to be an Amazon and he would be a Valkyrie"  
"Weren't those female warriors?"  
"He didn't know that. Not until Cat made fun of him. Then he started being the Hulk. Needless to say, I kicked his ass every time"  
Spencer smiled and said,  
"Of course"  
"Hey, um... I was thinking"  
"About?"  
"About us"  
He stopped fiddling with the pen in his hand.  
"What about us?"  
"Well, not just about us. About the bed. About the new black sheets on it. About how we haven't... warmed the bedroom since the renovation"  
That got his absolute attention. Spencer turned the chair, so his back was to his team. She asked,  
"Are you still in town?"  
"Yeah"  
"Veronica's bound to fall asleep soon. Mrs. Swan told me she didn't have her nap today", Monica whispered, "Think you can come home a bit early?"  
64 days. Spencer could have wept with joy.  
He said casually,  
"Sure"  
"Good. And Dr. Reid?"  
The tiny hairs on the back of his neck rose. Monica continued in that midnight sound of her voice.  
"It would be better if you can take a half-day tomorrow. When we are done...", she gave a soft, coquettish laugh, "I doubt you'll be able to make it to work on time"  
"O-okay"  
"Hmm", she said, "I can barely wait for you to get home"  
He reached frantically for his bag and ended up tumbling the files from his table. Holding the phone to his ear, Spencer gathered the papers from the floor.  
Monica asked,  
"What was that?"  
 _'The sound of my brain about to explode'_  
"Nothing", he said, "I'll see you when I get home"  
"Definitely. Bye, handsome"  
"Bye"

Apparently, his jerk friends had caught a whiff of what was going on.  
 _'Profilers'_  
Luke stood in his way. He smirked.  
"Where ya off to in such a hurry?"  
"I have to get home", Spencer cleared his throat, "Veronica..."  
Jennifer said,  
"Must be asleep by now. Toddlers fall asleep pretty soon, don't they, Matt?"  
 _'Not you too, JJ'_  
Matt, probably envious that he wasn't the one going home early to his woman, blocked his path too. Spencer could have sworn - the whole world was conspiring to keep him celibate.  
Matt said,  
"An active kid like Veronica, I bet she falls asleep by 8 at most. It doesn't explain though why the good Doctor should be hurrying home so soon. Or maybe..."  
Spencer interrupted him.  
"I..."  
He felt a bejewelled hand on his shoulder from behind. Garcia said,  
"Or maybe, he is rushing home to someone who is _not_ a two-year old"  
They had crowded around him in a circle, like a pack of hyenas. Luke said,  
"Could that be why he has been so distracted, since he got that call a while ago?"  
"Hey. Knock it off, you guys"  
Saying that, Emily joined them. She cast a disapproving glance over her team. Spencer smiled in relief at her, feeling grateful. Emily returned his smile and touched his face in a sisterly manner.  
"Your face is burning up, Spence. Is it a fever?", she asked innocently, "Or are you just hot for Monica?"  
That made them all guffaw. Tara coughed in the distance.  
"Night with Dr. Knight"  
Emily joined in the laughter. Spencer shouldered past Matt and Luke, mumbling.  
"You all are worse than twelve-year olds"  
He wouldn't let them see his coy smile as he walked out of the bullpen amidst wolf-whistles and Garcia's atrocious exclamation -  
"Go get her, playah!"

* * *

Thank goodness he had begun taking his car to work. The metro would have made him waste precious time. Spencer stopped at the store. In less than two minutes, he bought chocolates and peaches (her favourite).  
He told the cashier,  
"Keep the change"  
Driving home as safely and speedily as possible, he pulled up in the driveway. He had half expected Monica to come running out and jump on his waist, like she had done for the first time they had spent the night together. This anticipation, the nervous excitement, it felt much like that day. But as he got out of the car, all was quiet at their place. Taking in a deep breath, Spencer used his key and opened the door.

The lights had been dimmed in the house. It meant Veronica was asleep indeed. He walked to her room first, knowing well he wouldn't be stepping out of the bedroom any soon once he went in.  
Hugging Bunny, dreaming sweet dreams, Veronica lay fast asleep. Spencer smiled at her softly snoring form and stooped to lay a kiss on her forehead. He whispered,  
"Good night, Veronica"  
He stole out of the room with a quiet step. His paternal senses were lulled the moment he was away from her.  
Now he needed to see the object of his want and need.

Not in the kitchen. Not in their study. No problem. He had known she would be waiting for him in the bedroom anyway. What he didn't know was that the bedroom would be locked.  
"What the fu...", he almost swore.  
Spencer fiddled with the doorknob.  
It was definitely locked.  
He didn't care if that was Monica's idea of fun. 64 days, god damn it!  
His phone beeped. He would have ignored it. But that was the ringtone he had assigned to Monica's texts. Spencer read the text she had just sent -  
 _"You will need the key. Thought I might send you on a little treasure hunt. Find the book where the quote's from and follow the clues. The front yard and the garage are off limits. Everything you_ _ **need**_ _is inside the house. Have fun. ;)"_  
He smiled despite of himself. She wanted to make a game of it? Fine. Dr. Spencer Reid wasn't afraid of a little challenge. He was going to find the book, find the key, then find Monica and _make her pay_.

With an air of determination, Spencer read the quote she had sent.

 **"You are my heart, my life, my one and only thought"**

He scoffed. It was easy as pie.  
The quote was from _The White Company_ by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. What was Monica thinking? Now all he had to do was look for the book.  
Spencer went to the study first. He scanned their enormous bookshelves one after another. Her copy of the book was not there. He rummaged through the study with the care and thoroughness of the FBI agent he was. But somehow this felt more urgent than catching an UnSub. It was 9:00 pm already. He didn't want to waste a single second that night.  
"Finally"  
He found the book in the second drawer, hidden under her notes. With a champion's smile, Spencer opened the book which held the key to their bedroom.  
...which he had _supposed_ held the key to their bedroom.  
"What?"  
He turned the book upside down, shook it hard like a rough cop shaking down a perp. What fell out of it wasn't a key. He picked the object up from the study floor.  
Using her eco-friendly garbage stationery, Monica had written the next quote on a slip of paper, which had been tucked into the book's pages. He unfolded it and read.

 _ **"**_ **You and I, it's as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to earth together, to see if we know what we were taught"**

How romantic.  
And it was pissing him off. There was a second book he had to find now.  
Spencer exhaled aloud, trying to recall the name of the book. It came to him after the fastest cross-referencing ever done inside a human mind.  
"Doctor Zhivago"  
He put the book in his hand on the table and turned around. It was most unlikely that she would keep both books in the same room. Spencer followed his instinct and looked elsewhere.

He searched every inch of the drawing room for that damn book.  
 _'Kitchen?'_  
Walking into the kitchen and turning on the lights, he looked around. His options for starting the search were the cabinets, the overhead "cupboards" (as she called them), the... fridge?  
Monica, who had more than a touch of the crazy librarian in her, would never keep a book in the fridge, fearing humidity. But what if she had? Just to throw him off.  
Spencer opened the fridge and looked inside. Nope.  
 _'I know you like the back of my hand, Dr. Knight'_  
The cabinets were next.  
 _'Not here. Not here. Not here'_  
The cupboard over the microwave.  
"Yes!", he hissed.  
In his hands he held a paperback of Boris Pasternak's _Doctor Zhivago_. He hoped to God the key was in there. Alas...  
 _'You are making me hate treasure hunts, woman'_  
The next quote, written on the small slip of paper, was -

 _ **"**_ **It's not that I want to have you. All I want is to deserve you. Tell me what to do. Show me how to behave. I'll do anything you say"**

Spencer's eyebrow rose. Was that... he licked his dry lips and cleared his throat. He imagined Monica saying those words to him. On her knees in bed, with one strap of her mauve nightgown off the shoulder, her eyes dreamy and arousing...  
 _"Tell me what to do. Show me how to behave. I'll do anything you say, Dr. Reid"_  
The fantasy was enough to make his blood rush in the opposite direction of his brain.  
 _'Get a hold of yourself'_  
Frowning in deep concentration, he thought about the quote. He had read it for sure, but where? Foreign literature. Russian? No.  
French. It was French!  
Monica had given him some of her favourite French books (translated into English) and this quote was definitely from one of those. His lips moved as he recalled the titles to mind.  
 _'The Count of Monte Cristo, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Man Who Laughs, Dangerous Liaisons...'_  
"Dangerous Liaisons"  
That had to be it. Spencer rushed out to the new room.

Monica's house - _their house_ , what she insisted he call it - now had an additional two rooms. Her backyard and most of the space on the sides of her house had been used to make those. The colourful room was Veronica's, whereas the other, the bleak one, was where Monica worked out. Their renovator Bob had installed a pull-up bar at her request. Spencer hardly ever went into that room, except when he wanted to watch her work out. Now he stepped into the room and looked around. His gaze reached the pull-ups bar, making him reminisce about the other day.  
 _It was Sunday. Veronica was asleep. He had woken up early to work from home on some case load. When he had sauntered into the extra room, with his cup of coffee in hand, he had found Monica doing her pull-ups. Spencer stood close by, watching her in admiration. He teased her._  
 _"Do you need a hand?"_  
 _Monica dropped noiselessly before him on her feet, with the ease of a cat. She smiled at him. Spencer's gaze fell on her sweaty, heaving bosom. Or what he could see of it from her tank top._  
 _"What brings you to my lair, fair prince?"_  
 _She was sweating from head to toe, wiping her forehead with her forearm and a napkin. He thought, this is what pre-historic women must have looked like after a tiring hunt. It sure explained the very primal attraction he felt towards her in that moment. He tried to remind himself that he was a cerebral being, a sapiosexual, that he loved her for her mind'_  
 _And yet he found his arm around her waist. Monica gave him a smile full of surprise._  
 _"What are you doing? I'm all sweaty and gross"_  
 _"But..."_  
 _She waited for him to speak. He said,_  
 _"You're my gross"_  
 _Monica laughed, putting a hand on his chest as he pulled her closer. His mouth placed a firm kiss on her cheekbone. Spencer found himself wanting to lick the bead of perspiration that glided along her throat and disappeared between her breasts._  
 _Feeling much aroused, he said throatily,_  
 _"Monica..."_  
 _"Goor mowning!"_  
 _Veronica hugged their knees before they could see her. Monica kissed the top of veronica's head but stepped away from her._  
 _"Sorry. Monica is sweaty and needs a shower. But good morning to you too, sweetheart. What would you like for breakfast?"_  
 _Veronica chirped,_  
 _"Cake!"_  
 _Monica gave her that look Spencer knew too well. It was a softer version of her "You wish" look._  
 _"How about pancakes?"_  
 _"Yay! Pancakes! Come, Daddy! Sywup!"_  
 _Veronica pulled him along by his wrist. He looked over his shoulder with longing and saw Monica smothering a smile. She waved at him and mouthed,_  
 _"Buh-bye"_

The incident had reminded him of something Derek had said to him on Hank's second birthday.  
 _"Mark my words, pretty boy. Your child is God's way of stopping you from having sex. You think you can catch a quickie in the kitchen? He will suddenly want Mommy. You think you can step into the shower with her? He will bang on the door asking what you two are doing in there and if he can join. You want to put her on top of the laundry machine? He will come in and ask you to play with him"_  
Spencer, in his innocence, had asked,  
 _"Why would I put Monica on top of the washing machine?"_  
 _"Because when a man is desperate, he won't care that the only alone time he's getting with his woman is in the basement, doing dirty laundry. A guy's got needs, kid"_  
Veronica, much like her "Hank-bwo", was God's way of laughing at Spencer's arousal.  
 _'That's why tonight is important'_  
He was finally going to have Monica all to himself. If he could only find that stupid, epistolary...  
"Thank god", he exclaimed.  
With a smile, Spencer reached under Monica's treadmill. His smile didn't last long as he pulled out, not one but, two books.  
 _'Dangerous Liaisons_ and _The Man Who Laughs? Monica, you...'_  
The she-devil had achieved her purpose. Now he was confused. Which book did the quote belong to?  
Reading the books, even with his super-speed, was out of the question. He didn't have that much time.  
 _'Think'_  
The right one would have the key. Simple!  
Spencer shook both books hard. And a slip of paper fell out from each. Almost despairing, he picked the one that had fallen out of _Dangerous Liaisons_.

 _ **"**_ **Love is a possible strength in an actual weakness"**

Thomas Hardy, _Far From the Madding Crowd_.  
The note that had fallen out of _The Man Who Laughs_ read -

 _"_ **Make her blushing cheek a pillow for thy head"**

Spencer repeated that to himself. It sounded familiar. He gave it a thought.  
" _The Monk_ ", he said, "Matthew Gregory Lewis"  
It was one of Monica's favourite books. However, his problem still stared him in the face.  
Was he to follow the quote in _Dangerous Liaisons_ , or the one in _The Man Who Laughs_?  
 _'Think'_ , he urged himself.  
He was 98% sure that the third quote was from _Dangerous Liaisons_. Spencer tried to convince himself.  
 _'The Man Who Laughs didn't have such dialogue. Or such eroticism'_  
He glanced at his wristwatch. 9:13.  
"Screw it"  
He walked out of the room, in search of _Far From the Madding Crowd_.

The only room left in the house, one that wasn't locked, was Veronica's. How was he to search her room without waking her up?  
 _'If it's here, it can be found easily. Monica wouldn't risk any noises waking up Veronica. Not tonight'_  
Spencer passed by Veronica's crib, giving her an affectionate glance. He pulled up the blanket she had kicked off in her sleep and tucked it under her arms.  
 _'Wait'_  
His hand found something hard under Bunny. Veronica wasn't just hugging Bunny. Spencer gently pried the book from her grip. She was holding a well-thumbed hardcover of _Far From the Madding Crowd_.  
 _'How did I not notice this?'_  
In his haste to pounce on his girlfriend, he had not looked closely enough. Monica knew he went to Veronica's room first once he got home. She must have placed the book there on purpose. He would have gotten the damn key sooner if he had only _looked_.  
With trepidation, Spencer opened the book and shook it above his outstretched palm. He caught the key that fell from it. He curled his fist upon the key until the cold metal was digging into the heels of his palm.  
Placing one last kiss on Veronica's forehead, Spencer stole out of the room.

His hands were fumbling so bad the key fell out the first time. He put it into the lock again and turned it. The door gave and Spencer threw it open. He stepped inside like a conqueror, looking around for the cause of his misery.  
The room was empty. Black silk-cotton sheets were on their bed, and a bunch of pillows.

* * *

A/N: I am going to post the follow-up chapter tomorrow. Man, I haven't written that much smut in a long time. But I'm convinced it's hot. I had a "friend" read it and all. I hope you will like it. :3  
Leave me a cutesy review on this chapter maybe? It would make my day. Thanks for taking the time to read! :)


	38. Rewards

A/N: This chapter is just porn. Simple as that. I really hope you all enjoy this one. Thanks in advance for reading!

* * *

 _"Eros seizes and shakes my very soul_ _  
_ _like the wind on the mountain_ _  
_ _shaking ancient oaks"  
\- Sappho _

* * *

Standing in the empty room, Spencer swore.  
"You've got to be kidding me"  
He walked to the bed and stood glaring at it, with his arms folded over his chest, as if he were trying to stop himself from throwing stuff around.  
To him, it was the cruellest joke. He was a winner who had been denied of his hard-earned prize... which essentially made him feel like a loser.  
 _'When I get my hands on you, Monica, I swear...'_  
He was pissed, not knowing whether he should kiss Monica or be mad at her. The anger was indistinguishable from merciless desire.  
All of a sudden, his wrath became pointless. The very air in the room seemed to change. He could sense it. Something sweet and strong in its beauty - _like a rose_ \- was nearby. Spencer turned on his feet. His face was a mask of indifference but his heart thudded in his caging chest. Monica stood leaning against the open door, watching him.

He was torn between scolding her and kissing the sense out of her. In a second he realised he was incapable of scolding in his current state. It was a disturbing sense of serenity. What he felt, the anger, the arousal, whichever it was - it could only be expressed through his actions. His voice came out restrained.  
"You tortured me"  
Monica didn't move a muscle. She stood there watching him, still as a statue.  
Spencer said,  
"That was clever, I'll give you that. But it was cruel"  
He took a step towards her. He had to shove his hands inside his pockets to keep himself from reaching out and ripping that flimsy excuse of a nightgown right off her body. She hadn't worn one of those since getting out of the hospital. The almost sheer cloth draping her curves made Monica seem ethereal, like she had been sent for his pleasure from heaven.  
He recalled, painfully,  
"I haven't touched you... _really_ touched you in 64..."  
"64 days and 11 hours", she said.  
That melted away any anger he had. The fact that he hadn't been the only one counting the hours, suffering with longing, pining day and night for the one who slept in the same bed as him - it was enough to make him forgive her the prolonged foreplay. Eyeing her with a doleful expression, Spencer told her.  
"I have had to practice so much self-control since you have come back"  
"What do you mean?"  
"I have...", he admitted, "urges"  
"Such as?"  
"They are basically about having sex with you"  
Monica's face lit up. She asked,  
"When do you get these urges?"  
He shrugged, kicking lightly at the floor with his shoe.  
"Every time you step into the room, I guess"  
He took another cautious step towards her, and asked,  
"You never noticed?"  
"You always look at me with such innocent affection in your eyes"  
Spencer gave a nod.  
"Most of the time, I'm actually picturing you naked. Or wearing tight shorts"  
Monica looked away, smiling and blushing. If there was only one word in the world to describe her in that moment, it was _inviting_.  
Spencer walked to her until she took the cue to move away from the door. He closed and locked it from within. When he turned, Monica's face was a breath away from his. Her flushed face, her desirous eyes - they stoked his wickedness like kindling in a fire.  
She had made him wait. Two could play at the game. It took all of his resolve to not just give in to his need and smother her with kisses.  
He said,  
"What I am about to do, I haven't done it before. So if I do something wrong, you tell me"  
His eyes followed the bobbing pulse in her throat. With a promising smirk, Spencer dropped down to his knees before her.

He wasn't supposed to do that. He _never_ did that.  
"Dr. Reid..."  
She had fantasized about it a million times, dreamed of his sweet mouth devouring her. But she had also resigned herself to the possibility that it would never happen. And that was okay. Her boyfriend had a thing against germs. He often started talking about them right after sex; in third person, of course.  
The last thing Monica wanted in the world was to make him uncomfortable. So she had never as much as hinted at wanting oral sex.  
"You don't have to do this"  
"Spread your legs", Spencer said.  
Not once in those fantasies had she imagined she would be so nervous. So nervous that her legs gave a little tremble as she spread them a few inches.  
"You really don't..."  
Monica gaped. Spencer's hand was inside her nightgown and slowly climbing along her thigh. She glanced down at him. He was so tall his face was in direct alignment with her abdomen. She could see only the top of his head and the back of his neck, not the expression on his face, not the look in his eyes. Sweat broke out on her skin in the cold room, as his fingers brushed against her panties. Spencer was taking his time with her.  
Monica grew stiff as his fingers trailed along her most private part. She closed her eyes when Spencer pulled down her panties. He glided his knuckles against her inner thighs as he did so. He touched her leg and lifted her right foot, his long fingers curving upon her ankle in a firm grip. He did the same to her left foot and got her lacy panties completely out of the way. The soft gauzy fabric of her nightgown tickled her skin as Spencer lifted and gathered it in his hands.  
"Hold it up"  
Her fingers grazed his as she held it for him. It was a bit mortifying for her to stand there so, exposing herself to his face. But that's what he had asked.  
Her legs twitched again when he touched her inner thighs. Holding and caressing them in that familiar way, Spencer moved his hand to between her legs. Gentle, inquisitive as ever.  
Monica breathed easier as his thumb passed along her slit. She cried out in surprise the very next moment as Spencer's mouth replaced his thumb.

With an open, wet kiss, he took her. His mouth closed upon her like he was feasting on a cherry. His fingers parted her, gentle as a feather.  
Spencer's mouth kissed Monica's lower lips inside and out. A shiver ran through her at the touch of his tongue. He pinned her in place by holding her waist with both hands and going down on her. He lapped at her velvety softness with deep, lingering strokes. Like always, he seemed to await her body's response before he kept going.  
Monica gasped and closed her eyes as he licked a circle around her clitoris. Spencer licked it, kissed it, took it in his mouth over and over again only to let go too quickly. Pleasure pooled inside her right where his mouth met her body.  
It was too much. No one had ever done this to her. No one had taken his sweet time in tasting her so. The fact that he, her Dr. Reid, was the one finally claiming her in that way - it made her throb.  
When Spencer tilted his head from side to side to explore her with his mouth, she feared she would faint. He licked her almost dry, and she could swear she heard him moan in relish. His mouth must have filled with the taste of her.  
He took her pulsating clit in between his lips and sucked on it. Monica moaned weakly. This time, he wouldn't let go. She bit her lip and revelled in his ministrations. When he kept his mouth on her clit and his tongue invaded her, Monica's knees buckled. Spencer held her in place and leaned even closer. His hair brushing against her thighs, his nose against her... Spencer kept sucking her clit.  
"Oh god", she whimpered.  
It began.  
Tidal waves of a pleasure so intense, she feared she would drown. Holding her nightgown up with one hand, Monica grabbed his head with the other. He didn't look up. She rifled her fingers through his soft hair.  
"Spencer... I'm going to", she whispered, _"...cum"_  
He seemed to sense the pleasure surging through her. It grew and grew till there was nothing more to do but explode. Monica cried aloud as her orgasm hit, and Spencer buried his face deeper in her, drawing it out. She cried his name, wanting him to stop or she would go mad. But he didn't budge. She clutched at his hair and the folds of fabric in her hand, pursing her mouth tight to stifle a scream. Her legs shook like tongs as the vibrations ebbed away. Spencer slowed down his oral adulations too. He placed a sweet kiss on her mound before getting to his feet.

As she gasped for breath, Monica hoped for tenderness. Spencer loved kissing her. He was so good at it too. She couldn't help but gaze longingly at his lips as they stood close to each other. Monica reached for his mouth with hers but he drew back.  
"No"  
Her skin was warm and tingling. Her mind was so hazy with the onslaught of such ecstasy, she couldn't make sense of his denial. Spencer was holding her by the shoulders against the wall. It stuck to her bare, damp skin. With his fingers, he slinked the spaghetti straps down her shoulders.  
"Take it off"  
Monica waited for her breathing to turn normal. He was gentleman enough to wait with her. When she tried to take the nightgown off, he just stood there watching. She shimmied a little out of it, exposing her light blue bra (which was part of the set she had worn specially for the night), and pulling the nightgown over her head. It dropped to the floor from her hands. Spencer's eyes roved over her body in open admiration. Monica eagerly leaned forward to touch him, but Spencer swerved out of the way.  
"What are you... oh!"  
He lifted her into his arms. She put her own arms around his neck for safety. Though Spencer weighed more than her, she didn't trust his weight-lifting abilities all that much. But he walked to the bed and deposited her on it with ease, like she weighed nothing at all.  
Monica rolled over a bit with the momentum. She was lying on her side when she rose, bracing herself on the bed with both hands. Modesty compelled her to shut her thighs tight together.  
Spencer sat down on the bed, watching her. It seemed to her they were taking a breather.  
Monica asked him,  
"Why did you do that?"  
She put her arms over her lap and motioned with her head towards the wall, against which he had eaten her out. He said, in a casual manner,  
"I wish I had done it sooner. You taste great"  
Monica struggled to control her fluttering emotions. Spencer licked his lips and went on narrating how she tasted, like he had just sampled a dip.  
"...pineapple. And now I know why your romance novels keep using the adjective 'spicy'. It's..."  
She blushed.  
"Dr. Reid!"  
"What?"  
"You... it's not like you to say all this"  
He almost laughed.  
"If you could hear the thoughts in my head when I look at you, you would run away from me"  
 _'Au contraire'_ , Monica thought.  
She wanted to know every feeling that transpired through that great mind. She wanted to be so close to him that the world couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.  
Running her hand against the front of his shirt, she tried to undress him. Spencer held her wrist and shook his head. She smiled anyway and tried to kiss him. He wouldn't let her.  
Monica asked, a frown etched on her forehead,  
"What is going on?"  
Spencer said,  
"I'm keeping my clothes on"  
"But... then I'll be the only one naked"  
"Works for me"  
Before she could argue any further, he leaned forward and put his mouth on her throat. Monica closed her eyes, sighing in pleasure. Engulfed by his arms, she felt her head resting against the pillow as he lay her down. She turned her neck whichever way his kisses demanded. Spencer kissed the nook between her neck and shoulder blade, making her toes curl.  
 _'Now we're getting there'_  
This was familiar, satisfying as always. Monica lay compliant as he kissed her neck and shoulders.  
Spencer burrowed his face in her breasts. His hand slipped under Monica's waist, gliding up her spine, making her arch. He undid the hook of her bra and peeled it off her. She moved against the silken sheets, wanting the softness of Spencer's hands and mouth on her skin more than anything else. He obliged her by stroking her breasts. Reverently, he cupped and kissed them. Monica groaned when he licked the hard tips. Nibbling on one a bit, he took the right one in his mouth and suckled. Perhaps it was due to the abnormally long period of abstinence, but he had gotten surprisingly better at foreplay.  
"Oh..."  
She held his head in place lest he stray. Spencer released her nipple from his mouth, wet and taut, with a plop. She stroked his neck as his soft lips descended on her left breast. Monica purred.  
"I like that, Spencer"  
Her hands passed over his shoulders, down his arms. She bunched the fabric of his shirt in her hands, detesting its presence. Spencer reached upwards to kiss her scarred arm. She smiled and pulled him closer by the belt hoops on his pants, between her legs. He resisted her advances, still holding her knees apart. Staring into her eyes, Spencer moved down and licked her wet lips. A titillating shiver ran down her core at the touch of his tongue. Monica drew his head back up over her chest, holding his face in both hands. He turned his face down and began laying kisses all over her abdomen. He nipped at her waist, making her gasp. When he reached up again, Monica could sense the heat emanating from him below. She eagerly coiled her legs around his waist, pulling him in.  
He was so hard. She could feel it right against her own heat. If only his bloody pants weren't in the way...  
She reached for his belt buckle but he held her wrist down.  
"Spencer..."  
"Not tonight"  
Her voice rose. She cringed on hearing herself sound so impatient.  
"What do you mean not tonight?"  
"It means no. Why don't you lie down and let me..."  
Monica sat up. She demanded to know.  
"Have you lost your mind? Is this part of your torture technique?"  
"What's the big deal? I took care of you, didn't I?"  
His flippancy incensed her to no limit.  
"Are you serious right now?!"  
He gave her a nod.  
"Yeah"  
"What about that thing... just... just flaming inside your pants? You're going to sleep on _that_?"  
He said,  
"There are other ways I can take care of it"  
Her eyebrows rose. She spoke in a dangerous tone.  
"You're going to masturbate while I'm willing and naked in bed with you?"  
She hoped he was kidding. His expression was so sincere though.  
"I am sorry, Monica. I don't feel like it tonight"  
"What do you mean you don't feel it?! Hell, I can _feel_ it!"  
He took her hand off his crotch. She stared in disbelief as he stroked the back of her head with genuine affection.  
"I know. But I'm not in the mood tonight"  
Desperate, she adopted another tactic.  
"But darling, we might not get this kind of privacy again any soon. Tomorrow, Veronica will be up at the first sign of sunlight and our day will begin. You come home late and I have to go to bed early to wake up in time for work"  
Monica got on her knees and sidled up to him, pressing her breasts against him.  
"Come, Spencer. Don't deny me something I love so much"  
He said,  
"One night won't hurt you"  
She exclaimed,  
"If you're trying to punish me for the treasure hunt, it's working, okay? In my defence, it was just harmless fun. It took you less than fifteen minutes, for Pete's sakes!"  
When he wouldn't give, Monica put her arms around his neck. She crooned.  
"Do you want me to say I am sorry?"  
"No"  
Dreading the idea before she even said it aloud, Monica asked,  
"Do you... do you want to do it in the butt?"  
He made a face.  
"What? No!"  
"Then whyyyy?", she shook him, "Come on! I'll be on top if you want. I'll do all the work. You just sit back and enjoy!"  
Was his heart made of stone? Monica sure had begun to think so. They seemed to be at a stalemate, until Spencer said,  
"We _can_ do what you want. But first, you're going to have to tell me what book the following quote is from"  
Here we go. She had known this would happen. Monica said with exasperation,  
"I'm not the one with an eidetic memory"  
"Oh this one should be easy for you. Do you want to hear it?"  
If she had known he could be such a tease...  
"Sure", Monica said, obliging him.  
Spencer quoted Jane Austen.  
"Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant"  
Smiling, she was pulled into him by his hands on her waist. She buried her face in his shoulder, letting him fondle her nude behind with his hand. He had recited those lines with such meaning.  
Of course he wasn't going to sexually deprive her, it was _him_.  
Spencer asked,  
"Do you want to make a guess?"  
Monica turned to kiss his neck, then his ear. She whispered against it -  
 _"Persuasion"_  
"That is correct"  
"Do I get the coveted D now?"  
A bemused sound escaped his mouth. Monica watched Spencer shake his head in vain, biting back a smile. He looked at her face, looking more like the friend she had made in the library over a year ago.  
"My little skit", he explained, "...was to get back at you for the treasure hunt"  
"I gathered as much"  
Spencer talked as if he were confiding in her.  
"I didn't mean that stuff about me not being in the mood. Truth be told, I have been stalling. When you took off the nightgown, I pretty much... let go there. Right then"  
Like a patient listener, she let him talk.  
"I would never deny you anything you wanted. You know that, right?"  
"Yeah"  
"That was just me, pretending to be authoritative"  
Spencer asked, the side of his mouth quirking in a smile,  
"Did you like my dominant side?"  
"Not so much", she said, "Hell, Dirty Harry is better than Dirty Spencer"  
"We are not calling me that"  
She grinned.  
"We so are"  
Her amusement faded when his attention was recaptured by her naked chest. She watched his hands mapping the curves on her body. Spencer spoke softly, like they were sharing a secret.  
"Do you know what has been the hardest thing for me tonight?", he added, "Other than stopping myself from... entering you"  
She shook her head no. Spencer's fingers drifted into her hair. He looked into her eyes with genuine remorse.  
"Not kissing you", he said.  
Overawed, Monica heard her own voice come out in a solemn whisper.  
"I love you", she said.  
"I love you too. You have no idea how much", he held her by the arms, "My god, you have no idea"  
He laid her down in bed on her side, doing the same himself and watching her. She waited on one breath as he cupped her face. With torturous deliberation, their lips met. Fire crackled in their hearts, ready to combust at a moment's notice. They shuddered at the touch, clasping one other tight.

Monica lay next to him, passing her hands over his bare shoulders. The slope of his back, the lean muscles in it, his skin - she wanted every inch of him. Spencer went on kissing her mouth, sharing with her her own taste. His teeth grazed against her lower lip as he gave it a little nip. She kissed him with hunger, holding onto him. He toppled her without breaking away from the kiss. As Monica felt him lift her leg over his shoulder, her mouth curved upwards into a smile. He eased against her entrance. His own mouth was still warm against hers. Spencer asked, his voice raspy with arousal,  
"May I?"  
"Yes, please"  
He guided himself into her. Slow, gentle, like he feared she would break. One delicious stroke and he was inside her.  
"Yes", she gasped.  
Monica ached all over, wanting him to move. When Spencer did move, she yelped.  
He was going deeper than ever with each push. Hard, unrestrained. Thank goodness he understood the difference between "harder" and "faster". It was divine.  
Her whole body propelled backwards with the impact of his deep thrusts. She gasped and moaned louder than ever before, urging him on. Spencer moved inside her so, he grind against her clitoris with each thrust. Monica's head lolled back in pleasure.  
"Spencer..."  
Every molecule of her being was responding to his loving. He went slow but steady, invading her deeper and deeper. It was the most intoxicating thing she knew. Spencer inside her, throbbing, moving. A droplet of sweat fell from his forehead onto her abdomen. Monica sucked in a breath at its touch. It trickled down her skin into her navel. She was almost delirious, heading to her rapture.  
"Monica...", he breathed her name, "Monica"  
He kept holding her leg over his shoulder. Monica contorted herself around him, wanting to return the pleasure he was bringing her. She tightened further. His groan sounded almost painful.  
"Oh god..."  
Like fireworks, her pleasure exploded where their bodies were joined together.  
"Ah!", Monica cried.  
It consumed her. Rushing to her head, not sparing even the tiny spaces between her toes.  
Her body seemed heavier and hotter as her orgasm rattled her underneath him. Monica arched helplessly into Spencer, crying his name and quivering. She drew her legs together to try to rein her merciless climax in. But her pleasure was almost an entity, as it clamped itself between her legs, refusing to let go.  
"Monica... holy..."  
Her eyes opened as Spencer's face struck her chest. He lay on top of her, grinding into her, jerking forward.  
"Ah. Ahh..."  
His cries were muffled by her breast. Spencer held her tight, coming inside her still. Monica's chest heaved against his mouth as her breathing returned to normal. She held him against herself. It tickled where the softness of his wavy hair met her skin. The damp heat from his mouth against her breast, the heady aroma of their sweat and arousal, the weight of his body on top of hers - she had no idea what she had ever done to deserve this. Him.

"That was..."  
Spencer raised his head, looking at her, panting.  
"That was... oh fuck. I can't think right now"  
He rolled off her and lay on the bed, as Monica grinned. He asked,  
"Did I just say fuck?"  
That did it. She laughed without a sound and turned to him on her side. Her arm draped itself over his hard chest. Spencer wondered aloud.  
"How the hell did we survive 64 days without this?"  
Monica smiled and said,  
"Be damned if I know"  
"Me too"  
After a moment, he turned his face to hers. He asked,  
"What time do you have to go to work tomorrow?"  
"Not until noon"  
"Perfect"  
Spencer got out of the bed and put on his pants again. She asked, annoyed at the loss of his touch,  
"Where are you going?"  
"To the kitchen. I'm making coffee for us"  
Though she knew, Monica asked,  
"Why?"  
Her handsome boyfriend, looking dangerously sexy wearing his trousers and no shirt, gave her a smirk. He said,  
"Because I have an unexplainable desire right now to make sure you walk funny tomorrow"  
Raising a brow, she appraised him. In an instant, he reverted.  
"That is, if that's what you want", he said, shrugging, "Or if you don't, we can just talk"  
"If you think that we are just going to lie together in bed chastely tonight, like a pair of Amish sisters, you are a doodiehead"  
Spencer nodded, grinning.  
"I'll go get the coffee then"  
"Good"  
She turned away as he moved to walk out of the room. But he came back to her instead and kissed her on the mouth, withdrawing from her with a timid expression.  
"For until I get back", he smiled.  
Monica lay there staring after his receding figure. With a groan of renewed arousal, she rolled over and hid her face into the pillow.

* * *

A/N: Leave me a review maybe? Thanks. :3


	39. Costumes

A/N: I'm sorry for such a late update. I was quite disheartened by the mellow response the story received (sorry again), so I kind of abandoned it. But I owe it to the constant readers to bring this to some satisfactory finish. I had three more story arcs in mind – one where Spencer and his team is forced to pursue Monica as a suspect, another in which Spencer and Monica have to defend their family from a horde of serial killers (this one was going to have some head-on **Garvez** too), and the last one where Spencer's worst fears for himself come true. Alas, I am not going to be able to write all that anymore (new commitments, detachment from the story in question etc), but I _will_ post all that I have written so far for this story. That's a promise. Forgive me, and thank you for reading this.

* * *

 _"Oh, they were blind, too blind to see_  
 _Your faults had made me love you more"_

 _\- Sara Teasdale_

* * *

Spencer was examining some M.E. reports in the LAPD office when he heard them talking.  
"Henry is finally over Spiderman. He is still obsessed with the comics, but he said he wants to be something different this year"  
Halloween. They were talking about _his_ festival.  
Matt said to JJ,  
"I hope we catch this guy soon. I hate missing Halloween. Kristy has to take the kids out for trick-or-treating alone"  
Spencer thought he too had a lot to miss this year. Veronica's first Halloween with them. She had been so excited about dressing up as a bunny.  
And Monica.  
In a way, it would be their first Halloween together where she could dress up. The last time she had been in the hospital.  
 _'Has it been that long already?'_  
To Spencer, the memory of her time in the hospital was as vivid as ever. But when he thought about it now, it felt like those were the memories of another man. So much had happened since. Veronica, especially.  
Spencer and Monica's plans to do a haunted house this year were set aside, with silent grieving, when he had been called into work just three days before Halloween. And judging from the progress the team had made so far, there was no way they were getting back home in time to celebrate. JJ and Matt were optimistic, but he was a realist. He knew he wouldn't be there to take Veronica trick-or-treating for her first time.  
 _"You will be here next year. Don't worry about it"_  
Monica had told him so. Of course she wasn't angry with him for missing their favourite holiday. Of course she wasn't mad at him for leaving her alone almost every week to do everything by herself. That was her.  
Saint Monica.  
And he alone knew how grateful he was to have her in his life.

* * *

 _Night after Halloween -_

They had finally caught the holiday-ruining bastard. Normally, everyone would appear to look satisfied, at the least. But instead, they all looked sullen and tired.  
Everyone had missed celebrating Halloween with their family. JJ and Matt sat side by side, looking into their phones at Halloween pictures of their kids. Penelope, sweet Penelope, was handing everyone Halloween candies, trying to spread some cheer. It only seemed to work on Luke.  
"You okay?"  
Spencer turned to the sound of Emily's voice. She stood by his desk in the bullpen, while he was packing up to go home. He answered her.  
"I'm fine. Why?"  
Emily said,  
"You missed your first Halloween with Veronica. Is Monica mad?"  
That made him smile. He zipped up his satchel, saying,  
"Monica's never mad"  
"And I'll bet she is sweet too", Emily said.  
Cryptic.  
Odd.  
He looked at Emily, trying to catch her meaning. She was biting back a smile. Before Spencer could ask her what she meant, a childish squeal pierced the air.  
 _ **"Daddy!"**_  
Veronica had wrapped herself around his legs before he could turn around to face her.  
"Awww!", Garcia exclaimed, "Look at her"  
His heart skipping a beat, Spencer turned and lifted his daughter into his arms. Wearing a fluffy, grey bunny costume, grinning at him, placing her fuzzy paws on both sides of his face, Veronica greeted him.  
"Happy Halloween, Daddy!"  
"Ha..."  
Unable to make any coherent sound, he just laughed. He hugged her and kissed her face, still struggling to believe that Veronica was there with him in the BAU.  
"Wh...", he laughed some more, "What are you... where is..."  
When he tore his gaze away from her, he saw Monica. It made clear what Emily had meant.  
Standing at JJ's desk, Monica was in costume too.  
A chocolate glazed doughnut with sprinkles.  
Spencer thought his face would get stuck that way if he didn't stop grinning soon. Smiling wide, being stared at by everyone in the office, Monica walked to him.  
"Hi", she said.  
"Hi"  
"Thanks, Emily"  
Emily gave her a nod and walked over to the rest of her team, giving Reid's family a moment of privacy.  
"Mon, look!", Veronica said.  
She got out of Spencer's arms and sat down on top of his desk. Her face was inches from the small photo frame.  
"That's me! Daddy, that's me! Mon, look!", she said.  
They smiled at her and then at each other. Spencer eyed Monica up and down again. He wondered aloud so only they could hear.  
"I thought you were going to be Maleficent this year"  
Monica took a step closer to him, speaking under her breath,  
"I was. But would seeing me dressed as Maleficent make your mouth water? I think not"  
He was still grinning as she kissed him. Monica grazed his stubbled cheek with her hand. She gazed at him with the fondness he had come to treasure. Spencer said,  
"This was a really nice surprise. Thank you"  
"Ah well. We were going to be waiting for you at home like this. But then I thought about how much self-loathing you could pack in that one hour of commute until you saw us. Almost a complete hour where you're not smiling, where you're hating yourself – I couldn't stand the thought of it. So we came to get you instead"  
He tried to hug her. The donut part of her costume squished and she laughed as his arms went around it to encircle her. Spencer kissed her on the nose.  
"You're wonderful"  
"Ain't no one as wonderful as you, sunshine. But thank you. And I think we have been rude long enough now. Your friends are standing right there"  
He had pretty much forgotten they weren't alone at the moment. With a hint of colour in his cheeks, he pulled away from her. He laid a hand on the small of her back and they walked the few steps towards his teammates.

"Hi! How have you been? It's been way too long since we..."  
Monica greeted them with a megawatt smile. She only turned to Veronica after she had finished talking to them all.  
"Sweetheart, you have something for Daddy's friends, don't you?"  
Veronica nodded. From the bunny pouch above her stomach, she took out a fistful of candies and handed a couple each to her Dad's colleagues.  
"Happy Halloween", she said every time.  
Matt said to Spencer, speaking softly,  
"If I didn't know better, I wouldn't have believed it. She looks a lot like you"  
Spencer patted Veronica's head in affection, saying,  
"We get that often"  
As they all headed to the lift, Veronica being spoiled by her aunts JJ and Penelope, Monica and Spencer hung back a little. He asked her,  
"What's for dinner?"  
"Pumpkin soup and lasagna"  
Making sure they were not being overheard, he said,  
"And for dessert?"  
Monica looked up at him, fully registering his meaning. There was a twinkle in her eyes and a smile on her face.  
"Me", she said.  
He whispered, smirking,  
"My favourite"


	40. Families

A/N: Dear _Guest_ , I can't thank you enough for that review. It just... it gave me the boost I needed. I go a little crazy when I'm not writing. Thanks to your kind and compassionate words, I am going to try and finish this story as I had envisioned it. I'm currently working on the next arc, and once it is done to my satisfaction, I will put up the next chapter. My heart, my mind and the people who have to live with me thank you.  
Thanks are due to everyone who is still reading this story and to all the new followers. I truly appreciate you, I do. Thank you.

* * *

 _"Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone,_ _  
_ _but still miraculously my own._ _  
_ _Never forget for a single minute,_ _  
_ _you didn't grow under my heart, but in it"_

 _\- Fleur Conkling Heylinger_

* * *

Dr. Fleming hushed everyone around them.  
"Listen to this"  
She said to Veronica,  
"What does Daddy say, love?"  
Veronica raised her brows and stretched her fingers, as if trying to make a point. Her sweet, childish voice emulated an excellent mimicry.  
"Actually..."  
That sent all of her Daddy's friends laughing. Her Uncle Derek laughed the loudest.  
Veronica went on.  
"The earth is only 2% land. Statistically, pigeons poop the most"  
Dr. Fleming said, amidst the laughter,  
"Now do Monica. What does Monica say?"  
Veronica craned her neck to the side, making her luscious brown hair fall off one shoulder. She batted her lashes and said in a sing-song voice,  
"Dr. Reeeiiidd"  
Her Uncle George laughed so hard he fell out of his chair. Then he laughed while sitting on the floor.  
The now three-year old continued,  
"Could you take the trash out? Pleeeease"  
"Why does that sound so familiar?", Matt said.  
He gave a meaningful look to his wife Kristy, sending everyone into another fit of laughter.  
"Oh my god", Garcia wheezed, "I'm dying"  
She wiped her tears, having laughed the hardest.

While the merriment went on in their front yard, on the occasion of Veronica's birthday, Spencer and Monica argued in the kitchen. He turned to her, wearing his apron,  
"You agreed to take on the host duties! Go entertain! Go entertain"  
She retorted.  
"I didn't know you would be putting coconut oil in the food!"  
"It's a curry!"  
"A _North Indian_ curry. They don't use coconut oil in Northern..."  
"I read the recipe! Read it word to word. Are you seriously doubting my eidetic memory?"  
"I worked in an Indian restaurant, Megamind. If you don't believe me, just look at the recipe again"  
Spencer's raised voice dripped of sarcasm. He said,  
"If that will get you out of the kitchen, sure!"  
He pulled open the cookbook, hard enough to rip the pages. He read it aloud rapidly, not twenty thousand words per minute, but still fast enough to show Monica how annoyed he was.  
"...vegetable oil. However, avoid using coconut oil or..."  
He stopped.  
He had read it wrong.  
Or worse - he had forgotten. But how could _he_ forget?  
Spencer's face fell. He lowered his head as Monica put her arms around him. Seeing him look so humiliated had knocked all the fight out of her.  
She offered.  
"It happens sometimes. Maybe you overlooked it"  
He mumbled,  
"This has never happened to me before, I swear"  
She grinned.  
"I know, darling"

Out there in the yard, Veronica soon got bored with being the centre of attention. She played with her friends from school and the Simmons kids instead.  
Morgan's son, Hank, tried to join them. But he kept coming back to play with Monica's nephew, Giles.  
"Mommy, can we take him home with us, please?", he asked Savannah.  
She laughed.  
"No, sweetheart. He's just a baby. He needs his Mommy"

While Ted Knight and David Rossi talked of old times in the drawing room, Tara and Dr. Fleming struck up a conversation about psychology that amused them and them alone. JJ found herself chatting with Monica's sister Catherine. Derek caught up with his old team-mates, while George entertained the rest of the guests.  
Max went into the kitchen. On seeing his sister's boyfriend frazzled to no end, he couldn't help but say –  
"You need some help?"  
Spencer replied,  
"No, I'm almost done. Thanks, Max"  
Garcia came in too then. She informed him.  
"The kids are starting to chant 'Cake! Cake! Cake!' out there. And Veronica's already organising them in fighter troops"  
Max took over despite of Spencer's half-hearted protests.  
"You leave this to me", he said, "Go help Monica. I'll handle the cooking"  
Spencer asked him,  
"You sure?"  
"Yeah"  
Henry too joined them in the kitchen. He told Spencer,  
"Aunt Monica said she wants you out on the yard"  
"Yeah, I'm coming"  
Max asked, looking around,  
"Why did you cook three different cuisi..."  
But he was left alone in the kitchen to deal with a boiling pot, a beeping oven and a whole array of appetisers.

Adorable as ever, Veronica looked at all the faces surrounding her. There was a big grin on her own face. Monica was smiling at her, asking her to blow the candles. Veronica looked to her left and found Daddy. He said,  
"Go on, Nica. Blow the candles"  
She did.  
 _"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU..."_  
Forgetting everything else, Veronica laughed.  
So many happy faces. So many new friends. And they were all there for her.

* * *

 _Later in the evening –_

Spencer was sitting in the study, making note of the day's expenditures. He could have done it orally but Monica insisted on having their expenses in writing. The woman loved documentation.  
"She's out like a light"  
Saying so, Monica entered the study. The notebook and pen Spencer had been fiddling with lay on the table forgotten. He leaned back in his chair, leaning back far enough for his head to touch her. But Monica stopped short of him. He reached a hand towards her.  
"Come here"  
She took his hand, and he pulled her along. Monica smiled down at him.  
"You done with the tally?"  
He smirked.  
"Say it again"  
"Say what?"  
"Tally"  
She rolled her eyes. Grinning, Spencer pulled her onto his lap. Her hands caressed the sides of his face.  
"We pulled it off", Monica said, "Today was a success"  
"You were right. And we saved $135 by not hiring a caterer"  
"Say that again"  
He asked,  
"Say what again?"  
"You were right"  
She kissed his cheek as he smiled. Spencer said, reflecting,  
"It has been almost a year. Doesn't feel like it"  
"Not really"  
His hand passed from her thigh to her waist.  
"I don't want to sound conceited but, we did okay with her. Right?"  
The undernourished, shy child that had walked towards him in Seattle was now just a memory. His healthy, thriving daughter would have pitied that baby if she could have remembered her.  
"You have been spectacular with her, my love"  
Monica straightened the collar of his shirt.  
"I don't know how I could have done any of this without you", she said.  
"You would have. You're pretty efficient"  
That made her laugh. She put her arms around his neck.  
"Then let's just say I'm glad I did it with you"  
"Yeah, we make a pretty good team"  
"Damn right"  
"Blow it up"  
She gave him a fist bump, smiling wide. Spencer settled his hand on her waist again. When he looked up, he saw the light from the table lamp glinting in her green eyes. Her face smiled down on him like an angel's.  
She had never denied him anything, not her heart, not her body, not her home. But _this_ , what he was about to ask of her, was a different matter altogether.  
Spencer spoke his heart, before his mind could think.  
"Would you like to do it again?"  
To his utter relief, Monica took his meaning at once. Her smile faltered.  
"You mean..."  
Spencer said,  
"The Neanderthal way"  
She smiled.  
"But you... when did you...", Monica asked, unbelieving, "You changed your mind?"  
"Yeah"  
"How? I mean, did something happen?"  
"You happened"  
Spencer took her hand and kissed it. Monica's bramble-bruised, life-giving, green-thumbed hands.  
It was still a mystery to him how one man could find true love twice in one lifetime. And a love like Monica's... it was what every poet and every love song had promised him.  
Looking into her eyes, Spencer recited the speech he had made up over a year ago. His voice was soft and calm.  
"I want a baby, Monica. Yours and mine. With your eyes, your spirit, your smile. More than that, I want to make you pregnant. I am sorry if this sounds weird, but it's the greatest thing I can imagine - you pregnant with my child", he gave a coy smile, "I want to see you walk around, carrying our baby inside you. I want to rub your swollen feet, be mesmerised by your bigger breasts"  
Monica chuckled, hiding her face in one hand.  
Spencer added,  
"Besides, a kid as perfect as Veronica deserves a sibling to grow up with, right?"  
"Okay"  
He raised his brows.  
"Okay?", he said.  
She nodded, grinning and turning the colour of her home-grown tomatoes.  
"As in - okay, let's do it!"  
He hadn't expected her to give in so soon. A ridiculous smile erupted on his face. He asked,  
"You really want to have a baby with me?"  
She laughed at him.  
"Of course I do, you egg!"  
Now overcome with emotion, Spencer buried his face above her chest, clutching her to him.  
"Thank you", he said, "Thank you so much"  
Monica kissed the top of his head, holding him to her heart.

They were going to have a baby. Veronica was going to have a sibling. Not even the worst news in the world could have ruined that moment for him.  
"You know...", Monica said, "Our perfect kid?"  
Spencer smiled fondly,  
"Yeah?"  
"She kissed Agent Simmons' son on the mouth today"  
"SHE DID WHAT?!"

* * *

 _"Making the decision to have a child – it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body"_

 _\- Elizabeth Stone_


	41. Siblings

A/N: Many thanks to everyone who takes the time to read this story, especially to the lovely _Guest_ who leaves me such wonderful feedback. I hope you will forgive me for this chapter. :')

* * *

 _"There is a little boy inside the man who is my brother… Oh, how I hated that little boy. And how I love him too"_

 _\- Anna Quindlen_

* * *

"Big, big booty... damn. Why can't I get that song out of my mind?"  
The man said this to himself and cranked up the air conditioning. He was driving along a dusty road outside somewhere of El Paso, Texas. He had to check the navigation to make sure he was headed to the right place. It wouldn't do to get lost this time of the night in the middle of nowhere. Out there on that deserted road, away from city lights, the stars above seemed to be following the car with their eyes.  
"Stupid heat", he growled.  
He pulled off his sweatshirt. His t-shirt was sticking to him with sweat. After daring to sniff himself, he was satisfied he didn't smell that awful.  
"Still gonna need a shower when you get off, boy"  
He was in the habit of talking to himself when alone. Silence and he never got along. If possible, he would have avoided driving alone in the night, or asked someone for company. But the task he was up to was not one he could have ignored.  
He was carrying a whole trunk load and backseat full of medical supplies for one of his organisation's mobile clinics. It was all going to end up in Botswana, in the villages that needed it most. His colleagues weren't expecting him until afternoon the next day, but he intended to get there as soon as he could.  
One of the reasons he had undertaken this odd chore was to see Selena, the cute doctor who had given him her number the last time they had met. She was part of the team that would run the mobile clinic in Africa.  
He asked himself,  
"Should I use a line?"  
Flirting came to him easy. There was always a witty remark ready on the tip of his tongue. But for Selena, he didn't want to use any of his "charms". He wanted her to see him for who he was, no smoke and mirrors.  
He wondered if he should consult his brother about Selena. His brother would know the right approach towards a woman like her.  
Beautiful, serious, no-nonsense Dr. Selena.  
Or at the least, his brother would share some words of wisdom and encouragement.  
"Maybe tomorrow. Wait. Who's that?"  
Up ahead, from the roadside, a shadow was waving at him. He could make out the silhouette of a man in the dark. The hitchhiker was holding a duffel bag.  
"What are the odds of finding a hitchhiker when I'm itching for company?"  
The man in the car remembered his sister's pointed words about his "kindness towards strangers".  
But come on. How could he leave a man out there alone in the dark? It was past midnight already. And the guy seemed okay. He looked to be in his mid-forties, tall and hefty. A salesman, probably.  
"This is how you get murdered, Georgie. Monica would have a laugh if you did"  
George Knight stopped the car before the stranger. He gazed at the hitchhiker from top to toe. The man had a genuine look of remorse on his face.  
"...missed my bus... my daughter's birthday tomorrow..."  
George couldn't bring himself to deny the man a ride. It wasn't his nature to turn away someone in need. What was the worst that could happen, right?  
"Sure. Hop in", he said.

* * *

Lately, Spencer had been coming home in time for dinner. He would be sitting across from Monica, having the best view he knew. Veronica wasn't as quiet as them though. She had to catch Daddy up with everything that had happened at her playschool that day. She only stopped talking when he started reading her a bedtime story.  
"Good night, my little heart"  
He kissed the top of her head. Now asleep, Veronica hugged Bunny tighter. Spencer moved away from her new bed, making sure he didn't accidentally kick Bubbly again.  
Since Veronica's arrival in their lives, the old dog had completely forsaken his own little bed in the drawing room. He preferred to sleep by the foot of Veronica's bed instead, peeling his eyes open at the slightest sound of movement around her.  
"Good night, Bubbly", Spencer whispered.  
He walked out of the room with quiet steps, which turned into power walking the moment he was away from the door. Someone was waiting for him after all.

Monica was reading in bed. But the book which she had wanted for months couldn't hold her attention that night. There were other things on her mind.  
Just one, actually. Her boyfriend.  
Dr. Reid had been so affectionate the last few weeks. He always was, but this new affection was more physical.  
He would kiss her out of nowhere. He would put his arms around her all of a sudden. Even at dinner, she would catch his gaze trailing slowly down her face, her neck to her chest. With all the sex they were having, not once had he seemed distracted or tired to her.  
Other than that night when he had made her read that article about conceiving... right before sex. Anatomical diagrams and all.  
She smiled. He hadn't changed, not the bits of him she loved. He was still the same sweet, intelligent man who always looked at her like he couldn't believe his luck. If someone had asked Monica, she would have told them _she_ was the lucky one. Being loved by Spencer Reid was the greatest joy she had ever known.  
"You're still reading that?"  
Monica watched Dr. Reid as he climbed into bed next to her. His voice had that soft tone, and his eyes that almost liquid glint. His Iet-me-give-you-some-sweet-loving look.  
She smiled back at him.  
"Not anymore I am", she said.  
"Good"  
He took the book out of her hands, placing the bookmark in it with care. He put her book on the night stand before taking off her glasses. Monica's heartbeats quickened with the anticipation she had felt too often as of late. Dr. Reid gave her a sheepish smile before saying,  
"I love having you here"  
"Where?"  
"In bed with me"  
She grinned.  
"There's no other place I'd rather be"  
"Thank god"  
He reached for her with his lips as his hands began to roam along her body. Her neck, her shoulders, the scar on her arm, the curve of her breasts. His hand was still cupping her breast when Spencer withdrew from the kiss and said,  
"Would you like to try something different tonight?"  
With his thumb flicking over her clothed nipple, the most intelligent reply Monica could give was -  
"Something different?"  
"Something we haven't tried before. It's... you would be on your hands and knees, and I... I would be behind you"  
"You can't just say doggy style?"  
"No, it sounds weird. But research says it allows for deeper penetration, and the sperm won't have to travel for too long to reach your cervix"  
"All this talk about your sperm and my cervix, it really turns me on, Doc"  
"Tha... are you being sarcastic?"  
"No"  
"Then why are you laughing?"  
Monica had burst into an artless giggle. Spencer smiled too before kissing her again.

They were in a tangled embrace, which got more intense as Monica kept kissing him, when Spencer's phone rang. Their heads turned at once, staring at his cellphone. His chest rose and fell with each breath as he stayed on top of her. Monica's arm around his neck kept him from grabbing the phone off the nightstand. She said,  
"Who the hell is cock-blocking me at this time of the night?"  
"Sorry. Let me check"  
Feeling guilty, Spencer planted a quick kiss on her lips before reaching for the phone. He sat up straighter in bed when he saw the caller id.  
Monica grumbled,  
"That better not be Emily. She and I had a deal"  
Spencer's brows furrowed as he kept looking at the phone screen. It said 'Dr. Catherine Dawson' - Monica's sister. If it was just any routine call, Catherine would have called on Monica's phone.  
"It's not. I... I have to take this though. Excuse me", he said.  
Wondering what was wrong, Spencer walked out towards the drawing room. Monica didn't follow him.  
"Hello?"  
 _"Spencer? It's... it's Catherine. Monica's sister"_  
She sounded like she was crying. Hoping to god Monica's parents were all right, he said,  
"Is everything okay?"  
Catherine sobbed some more. She choked on her own words, trying to speak.  
 _"George... George. Spencer... he's dead. M-m-murdered. Oh my god. How am I going to tell Monica?"_

Death always hit him worst when it came as a surprise. Almost two million people lived and died every day. But it was different when it came to someone you knew. Spencer had tried to reason with himself while Catherine cried over the phone, trying to explain. But his reason was overpowered by sorrow. There was a tight knot in his chest at the thought of George dying and how it was going to affect Monica.  
 _"I know it's too much to ask but... could you tell her? Please. I don't have it in me to do it. Max and Audrey are barely able to hold Mom and Dad together. And themselves. My brother... why..."_  
He had assured Catherine that he would break the news to Monica. Hoarse from crying, Catherine sounded like she was going to collapse any second. He couldn't even ask her for details of the... murder.  
George _murdered_ \- it felt like the cruellest thing in the world.  
He had to keep his head though. There would be time later to question everything about George's death, but it wasn't now. What he needed to be in that moment was the man who loved Monica, not SSA Spencer Reid.  
He would tell her. He had to.

"Who was it?"  
Monica asked him the moment he set his foot in the bedroom. She seemed slightly anxious, like she were hoping he hadn't been called into work again. But he didn't know how to tell her this was much worse.  
He walked to her like there were weights attached to his feet. Monica kept looking up at him.  
She was so beautiful to him in that moment. Her green eyes turned to him, the nightdress hanging low over her bosom, her face a mix of hope and trepidation.  
"Everything all right?", she asked.  
Spencer held in a sigh. He stood by the bed, right before her. He reached out a hand to touch her cheek. It was cool against his skin with the night air, but soft as ever.  
"Dr. Reid?"  
Still thinking, he sat down by her side. _This_ he had never had to do before. Tell somebody that someone they loved had died, been murdered. Maybe a few victims' families, but never someone _he_ loved.  
All his wealth of knowledge seemed insufficient in that one moment. The only wise course he could think of was to lay the truth bare before her eyes. How in the world could he soften the news of her brother being dead?  
"Monica..."  
Saying her name only made it worse for him. Her expression of hope had now turned into worry. Spencer soldiered on.  
"That was Catherine"  
"Cat... my Catherine? I mean, my sister?", she asked.  
He nodded. Taking in a breath that felt acrid as smoke, he said,  
"I'm so sorry. But... George - someone hurt him. He's... dead"  
She didn't speak, just stared at him. He watched her lips move in a futile attempt to speak.  
"George?", she said.  
"I'm so sorry"  
Monica kept looking at him, as if she were expecting him to tell her it wasn't true.  
"How?"  
He told her what he knew.  
"Texas police found... his body. Somewhere outside of El Paso. He was headed somewhere in a rental car"  
"Was he shot?"  
"Stabbed. And...", he winced inward, "Bludgeoned. They are bringing his... they are bringing him to Washington. Catherine and Elaine are waiting for it at the hospital. Audrey and Max are bringing your parents"  
When she did shift her eyes away from his face, tears ran down her face. Spencer put his arms around her as if he were just remembering they were there. In his arms, Monica was stiff and pale. She said at length,  
"I have to go too"  
"Of course. Can you..."  
She got up before he could finish asking. Her reaction left him gazing at her in surprise. She was already putting on her clothes and saying,  
"Could you stay with Veronica, please? I'll call you when I get there"  
He got up.  
"I'm coming with you. We'll leave Nica with JJ. I'll call her right now"  
"Don't. You should stay here with her. I..."  
He said,  
"I'm coming with you, Monica. JJ can look after her for the night"  
She absently buttoned her shirt and said,  
"Okay"  
Spencer made for his phone to call JJ. But the sight of Monica just mechanically putting on her clothes, looking into empty space - it worried him. He walked to her and put his hands on her arms.  
"Look at me. Please", he said.  
She did. But the light had gone out of her eyes. She looked like she had aged years in minutes. She stood still, watching him, until his hands on her began to feel odd and out of place. Spencer heard her say,  
"Please call JJ. We need to get to the hospital soon"  
He tried to think of the right words to say. Something that might illicit an honest response from her, not this facade.  
"Okay"  
He let go of her and called Jennifer. And all the while, his eyes were on the woman who walked to their daughter's room, squaring her shoulders and shutting off herself to the world.


	42. Whispers

A/N: Thanks for the review, _MiiichelleYu_! ^_^  
Please leave me some feedback at the end of the chapter, everyone. Thank you very much.

* * *

 _"I stand ablaze before you,_ _  
_ _And you tell me you smell smoke"_

 _\- Erin Hanson_

* * *

"My boy", Ted Knight wept, "My beautiful boy..."  
Sitting in the corridor outside the morgue, Mr. Knight cried over his dead son. He was hunched over and hiding his face in both hands. Monica's mother sat next to him, crying and asking him to be strong for their children. But there was no conviction in those words.  
Spencer tried to make some sense of this sudden misery inflicted on the Knights. It was just... unfair. Dr. Fleming and Mr. Knight seemed to think so too as they sat there looking defeated. Their demeanour expressed sorrow and regret - sorrow for losing their grown-up son, and regret for having outlived him. When a grave thought occurred to Spencer, of being alive while Veronica wasn't, he shuddered where he stood.  
 _'Oh God, anything but that'_  
As he violently shrugged that thought away, he could no more stand the sight of Monica's parents mourning. He turned his attention to Max and Audrey instead. Audrey refused to leave her husband Mark's arms, sobbing mutely. Max sat between his mother and his wife. Daya held onto his hand and wouldn't let go.  
"Hey"  
Spencer turned at the sound of Monica's voice. She had come to stand next to him.  
"Hey", he almost whispered.  
Catherine came out of the door Monica had. They had just been in there to identify George's body. While Catherine could barely contain her sobbing, Monica talked to him.  
"I have to make some calls. Could you..."  
"Yeah, I got you", he said.  
He reached out an arm towards Catherine, who threw herself against it gratefully. Monica walked away from them without looking back. She already had her phone to her ear by the time Catherine's crying had subsided.  
"That bastard denied my brother his last wish"  
Spencer looked down at Catherine's face. He asked,  
"What do you mean?"  
"George was an organ donor", Catherine whimpered, "But it's too late now"  
Unsure as to what he could say to bring her some comfort, Spencer just let her take shelter against him. But the moment her wife Elaine entered the morgue, Catherine made for her instead and cried harder than he had seen her cry before.  
As Spencer watched the Knights being comforted by their loved ones, his heart ached for Monica. She deserved to have some of that affection too. Of what use was he as a boyfriend if he couldn't comfort her at a time like this?  
He watched her hang up on the call and come to her parents. They were far away enough for him to not hear what she said to them. Whatever she did say to her family, it worked. Mr. Knight and Catherine's crying became controlled and inaudible. Max seemed to recover from his shock long enough to get up and go out. Audrey let go of Mark and sat down by her parents instead.  
Monica and her mysterious ways. The mystery was too much for him sometimes though.

* * *

Monica stayed at her parents' for two days. She was the only one in the family who was capable of organising George's funeral. The rest of them surrendered to their grief.  
She would call him and Veronica twice a day. Her questions revolved around her boyfriend and her ward.  
 _"What did you guys have breakfast?"_ _  
_ _"Is Nica doing okay?"_ _  
_ _"She needs a present for her friend Hope's birthday tomorrow. It's in the dresser, red wrapping"_ _  
_ _"How was your day?"_  
She talked, but she didn't _communicate_. He tried to ask her how she was holding up, until she told him at last.  
"I love you and I appreciate your asking, but I don't want to talk about it. I need to be strong for our family right now"  
Spencer had asked,  
"But you _will_ tell me when you do want to talk?"  
"Of course"  
They didn't talk about it again.

George's funeral was attended by almost a hundred people. Everyone who knew him mourned him. Everybody had a kind word to say about him. It made no sense how a man who had devoted his life to helping others could have been taken away from them so soon.  
"Daddy?", Veronica said.  
Spencer and JJ looked at her. Wearing a black dress she hadn't wanted to wear initially, Veronica was making pining glances at Monica sitting a few seats away between Mr. Knight and Max. One of George's friends was talking about him before the gathering. So Spencer had to use his quiet voice with Veronica.  
"What is it, sweetheart?"  
"Why is Monica sitting all the way there?", Veronica said, "I want to go sit with her"  
Spencer looked to JJ for help. She told him,  
"Let her go. Monica won't mind, I'm sure"  
With reluctance, he told Veronica she could go sit with Monica. Pairs of eyes turned to the little figure rushing past chairs in the middle of the service. Monica noticed her at once and took her onto her lap. Spencer watched her kiss Veronica's head and smile at her.  
If one could call her forced expression of mirth a 'smile'.

Once the crowd dispersed, Spencer and JJ walked further away to avoid being overheard. He kept looking over his shoulder at Veronica. Not comprehending why everyone looked so sad, the little one had taken it upon herself to cheer up her grandparents and Uncle Max.  
"How are you holding up?", JJ asked Spencer.  
He thrust his hands in his coat pockets. He said,  
"I'm fine. It's Monica I'm worried about"  
"If you ask me, she seems to be handling it better than the rest of her family"  
"That's what she wants everyone to think"  
 _'But I know better'_  
JJ assured him.  
"She will come around. Everyone deals with grief differently"  
"I know"  
He looked back over his shoulder again. Monica was talking to some of the guests leaving. She looked great in black. If only it were a different occasion, he would have told her so.  
He turned to JJ again instead, asking,  
"Any leads?"  
At once, her demeanour changed. JJ looked around them once before saying,  
"Tara and I connected some dots. This wasn't just a murder"  
"What was it?"  
JJ sighed, looking him in the eye. She said,  
"It's a serial. Garcia found three similar unsolved cases with the same MO. Stabbing with a carving knife, the broken jawbone, the body locked inside the car. We think it's the same UnSub. I'm sorry, Spence"  
A serial killer targeting someone so close to him - it was downright offensive to him. He caught those monsters for a living, but this was a bit too much.  
George being killed by a serial killer meant Spencer was involved one way or another. Now, at last, there was something he could do for Monica and her family. He could catch the murderer who had taken George from them.  
"How are you going to tell Monica?", JJ asked.  
Spencer couldn't help but feel determined and anxious at the same time. The note of fear crept into his voice.  
"I don't know", he said.

* * *

The morning after the funeral, Monica came back home. Veronica made for her before he could. She held Monica's knees and pleaded.  
"Don't go again, Mon. Ever! Bubbly cried when you were gone. I think Daddy did too"  
Monica gave Spencer a doleful smile. He walked to them, taking in the sight of his girlfriend with a grateful look. Monica said to Veronica,  
"Boys are silly. I'll bet my strong, brave girl didn't cry"  
Veronica shook her head with pride and said,  
"I didn't cry"  
"Oh yeah?", Spencer said, "Who wouldn't go to bed last night because she wanted Monica to sing her to sleep?"  
Veronica looked between both of them and turned on her heels. She mumbled,  
"I don't know"  
And took off. Spencer and Monica shared a knowing smile. Feeling a bit at ease, he said,  
"Welcome back home"  
"Thanks"  
Before he could step forth and hug her, Monica was taking her bag to their room. A pang shot through him at being unconsciously denied something he needed. Perhaps, something they both needed.  
He consoled himself, turning his attention to the smiling photos of his family that decorated the walls of their house. Pain hurt, but it couldn't last forever.

At work, the BAU pursued the case vehemently. They had already begun working on the data before Emily announced -  
"That was El Paso. We're in"  
Redoubling their efforts, Matt and Luke worked on a geographical profile, JJ and Tara on a psychological one. It left Spencer tying the threads between all the limited information they had. A rudimentary profile was forming before his eyes, but he needed to be sure. So far, he had -  
"The UnSub has struck at least three times before, that we know of. He always targets lonely travellers. His murder weapon is a carving knife. Here's a list of professions and hobbies which may require use of a carving knife. But this is up for debate. Even if he does use a carving knife as his murder weapon, there is no sign that he has the skills to use it properly. So we can't be sure that he actually uses it as part of his profession or for a hobby"  
Luke suggested,  
"Maybe he is a knife salesman"  
Matt said,  
"That would be way too obvious"  
Tara said,  
"To us maybe. Not to an UnSub who thinks he can't be caught"  
Emily heard them all out. After offering a few of her own theories, she said,  
"Wheels up in 30. Reid, you got a minute?"  
Spencer followed her out of the briefing room. Emily turned to him with a sympathetic face, which told him volumes before she could speak a word.  
"I think it would be better if you sit this one out"  
He was ready with every counter-argument possible. But Emily sighed.  
"Spencer, you're too close to this case. The vic... George was practically your brother-in-law. And I'm not saying I don't need you on this. But I think it would be better if you worked this case from here. I'll run everything through you, I promise"  
Part of him understood Emily's intent in giving him house-sitting duties, but part of him wanted to catch George's murderer in person.  
"I can be more useful there. I..."  
"Monica needs you here"  
That put a stop to every argument he could have come up with. At the mere mention of her name, he could see Monica in his mind's eye. Going about her chores, faking a smile for Veronica.  
Emily said,  
"If you are here, you can go home to her every night. Obviously, you're coming along on the next case. But I think you are needed here more"  
All he could do then was nod in agreement.

 **9:30 pm**

He parked the car in their driveway. Veronica's bobble-head bunny wiggled on the dashboard. Spencer grabbed the bag of cinnamon rolls he had driven all the way to Paula's for. Monica loved those.  
Fearing the sound of the doorbell might wake up Veronica if she was asleep, he used his key instead. The lights in the house were dimmed, which signified it was Veronica's bedtime.  
He put his bag away, put the bag of cinnamon rolls on the table and treaded lightly to his daughter's room.  
 _"And if you hurt me, that's okay, baby, only..."_  
The sound of Monica's singing carried over the air to him. A smile crept on to his face unawares before he could even reach the door.  
There she was; sitting by Veronica's bed, never with her back to a door or window, and singing. Bubbly was resting by her feet, snoring away. Monica didn't startle but he knew she could tell he was there.  
 _"...wait for me to come home"_  
Veronica was already fast asleep, with her little mouth gaping open. Monica kissed her cheek and got up.  
"Allow me", Spencer said.  
He kissed Veronica and turned the lights out. Monica waited for him outside the room, as he wished Bubbly a good night and pulled the door closed.

She joined him for dinner. Spencer couldn't stop himself from sneaking glances at her face. When she caught his gaze, he gave her a timid smile. She gave him one in turn. It wasn't until he had almost finished his meal that he could bring himself to tell her.  
"Monica... about George's murder..."  
"Detective Riggs from El Paso called today. He told me. It's okay", she said, "You don't have to repeat it"  
There was a moment when Spencer simply stared at her, not knowing if he should be relieved. In the end, he supposed he should tell her what she definitely didn't know.  
"I know you're not comfortable talking about this yet but, I think you should know", Spencer said, "Emily and the rest of the unit flew to Texas today afternoon. El Paso"  
Monica didn't show any feeling. He forged on.  
"We are investigating George's murder. Emily asked me to stay here. I was all for going with them but she was right. I am glad I didn't go. I get to be here with you and your family"  
Monica watched him for a moment before saying,  
"Thank you"  
"We're going to get whoever did this, Monica. I promise"  
"Thank you"  
He took the cue to stop talking. Monica turned her attention to her plate of food again. He felt obliged to do the same.

The team had sent him an update on the case before they headed back to the hotel for the night. The night of his murder, George had been carrying a large number of medical supplies with him and a lot of it was missing. His organisation had shared with the BAU and El Paso police the comprehensive list - serial numbers, manufacture details and all. It would make it somewhat easier - no, _less difficult_ \- to catch the UnSub if any of the stolen supplies were sold to a registered clinic or buyer.  
It was a long shot, but his team was hanging on to every vine they could grab hold of. For his and Monica's sake.  
 _'Am I ever going to see her smile again?'_  
Of course, he would. He reasoned with himself.  
It would take time and patience. The woman had lost her brother. She couldn't just be expected to cry and get over it. Not Monica anyway.  
"Hey"  
Spencer almost turned, in the middle of removing his under-shirt before bed. Before he could, Monica's arms had gone around his torso. He stood dumbstruck in the spot as he felt her forehead rest against his back.  
 _'Oh my god, is she crying?'_  
He turned in haste to check. Monica's misty eyes sent him into a panic he wasn't prepared for.  
"Hey. Hey, you... Monica...", he tried.  
She wiped her tears away before they could spill. It made him notice the hollows under her eyes. She said,  
"I'm sorry for being so closed off lately. I'm sorry for being like this"  
"It's okay", he said at once, "It's all right"  
When Monica looked up into his eyes, with her lip trembling, he took her in his arms.  
"Come here", he said.  
She grabbed hold of him with a grateful sigh. Spencer's chest rattled with a shaky breath when she rested against it. The hot tears spilling from her eyes moistened his t-shirt. His clothes getting wet was the last thing he cared about in that moment.  
He said to her, his voice brimming with resolution,  
"I'm not going to force you to talk to me about it. I'm not going to ask you to accelerate your grieving process somehow. This... George's death is going to hurt for a long, long time. And I understand that. But I need you to know"  
He held her tighter against himself.  
"I'm right here, Monica... _I'm right here_ "  
She said, her voice muffled against his chest,  
"I don't deserve you, Dr. Reid"  
"That's the stupidest thing you have ever said, Dr. Knight"  
She laughed, a surprised and brief sound. When she looked up at him again, Spencer wanted to kiss her damp cheeks. He settled for kissing her forehead instead. It wouldn't do to make her think he had something more intimate on his mind, not so soon.  
"I want to sleep in your arms tonight", Monica said.  
He was a little surprised, but he said,  
"Sure"  
"The shirt has to go"  
"Whatever you want"  
"I get to share your blanket", she said.  
"Of course"  
"And we'll listen to Air Supply"  
"Now you're pushing it"  
Monica gave him a wide smile that made his heart want to leap right out of his chest. It was her first real smile in days.

* * *

If you were to ask him, he couldn't have told you when he fell asleep that night.  
Maybe after they were touching each other under the covers like their love had to be kept a secret.  
Maybe after she recited Russian poetry to him.  
Maybe after he peppered her face with soft little kisses.  
Maybe after he told her he never wanted to spend another night where he couldn't hold her in his arms.  
Maybe after she whispered into his chest, "I love you", and he smiled, saying, "I know".

Monica had coiled herself so around him, she was all he could think of, see, smell, hear. He had stroked her hair, her back until she fell asleep in his arms. Her cheek lay against his bare chest. The warmth of her breath against his skin was the last thing he remembered before falling asleep. The lack of it was what eventually woke him up.  
A bit dazed from such a satisfying sleep, Spencer had to rub his eyes with both hands. He sat up alone in bed, hoping to hear Monica bustling about in the house. They could sleep in for a while maybe. What time was it?  
7:09 AM?  
A twenty minute nap was perfectly doable. He just wanted to have her close to him again. Last night had been more intimate than two years of their love.  
"Monica?", he called.  
His voice was raspy from sleep and his throat felt dry. Spencer turned to the night stand for a glass of water. Under the tall glass, a page from one of Monica's recycled notebooks awaited him. He retrieved it without much thought and read. By the time he read it halfway, he was fully awake.

 _'I have to get away for a while. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. You're the only one who could have talked me out of it. I'm sorry, but I have to do this. Nica knows. She gave me her permission last night. Harper is going to come over to look after her when you're at work. Audrey is going to ask you if Nica can stay with them till I get back. It's up to you._ _  
_ _My phone is at home. I'm going off the grid for a while. I'll be fine, I promise. I need this, my love. I'm sorry. Please look after yourself. I love you so much._ _  
_ _\- Monica'_

Spencer rushed out of bed like he was fleeing a bad dream.

Gone. Her passport was gone too. _How could she do this to..._  
The doorbell.  
Spencer put on his shirt in a hurry and ran to the door.  
 _'Please God, let it be her. Let her have changed her mind'_  
It was Audrey, Monica's sister. And Harper, Audrey's teenager daughter.  
"Sorry to intrude upon you so early in the morning, Spencer. I hope you don't mind", Audrey said.  
He stepped aside.  
"Come in"  
Harper said to him,  
"Hey, Uncle Spencer. Monica leave yet?"  
"Y-yeah"  
"Aw, man. Mom, I told you we should have hurried. Anyway", she turned to him again, "Is Nica awake?"  
"I am not sure"  
"I'll go check"  
It was all too much all of a sudden without his morning coffee. Without Monica.  
Regardless, Audrey had already started talking. She was calling her assistant and talking to him at the same time.  
"...got her message last night. I would really like to have Veronica stay with us until Monica gets back. You know we are crazy about her. Besides, you must be up for some late hours. I heard your team is investigating... Arthur, where are you? I'm already running late. I told you that you need to be there before I do. No, the folder is with me. Yes, hurry up"  
Audrey's abrupt pause made him aware of the situation. She hung up and resumed conversation with him.  
"Harper and Nathan adore Veronica. With Monica not being around for a while, you will..."  
"When did she call you?", he asked.  
"Around 8 or 8:30 last night. What time did she leave today?"  
He was on the verge of a full-blown panic. The pieces started coming together. The picture became clearer.  
Monica had planned this. And she hadn't told him because he would have known right away and stopped her.  
"Spencer?"  
She was not the kind of person to run away from her troubles. She faced them head-on. Monica would never abandon him and Veronica like that, even for just a few days. Unless...  
"Spencer, are you all right?"  
Spencer turned on Audrey just as Harper came into the drawing room with Veronica. He asked,  
"Where is she?"  
Audrey said,  
"England, at our grandparents'. She must have told you"  
He was close to hyperventilating. If his worst fear were to come true... _oh God._  
"She didn't tell me, Audrey. Where is she?"  
Audrey said with apparent indignation,  
"England, Spencer. Monica told me so. Where else would she go?"  
He mumbled,  
"El Paso"  
"What? Why would she go to..."  
He said, dreading each word before he even said it,  
"She's going after the man who killed her brother"


	43. Headphones

A/N: Dear _Guest_ , thank you for another glorious review. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it when someone takes the time to give me feedback on my work. Thank you so much. I hope the upcoming chapters somewhat undo the grief I have caused the readers. I have to admit though that this one won't be exactly happy. But thank you again for your kind words!

* * *

 _"I wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone in this whole world. I wouldn't hurt them physically or emotionally. How then can people so consistently do it to me?"_

 _\- Beatrice Sparks_

* * *

 **El Paso, Texas**

"Night, Saul"  
"Night"  
As the officer left the building, the janitor set to work. He whistled as he swept the floor clean. There was cause for his jolly mood.  
His daughter had won some big scholarship the same day. He kept on picturing his little girl as a doctor, the first one in the entire seven generations of his family. Visions of her bright future clouded his head, filling him with paternal pride and joy. These pleasant thoughts occupied his mind so much that he never realised he wasn't alone.  
Someone was lurking nearby as a shadow.  
It couldn't have bothered Saul any less in the moment. He happily rolled out his cleaning equipment, wondering what he could afford to buy his daughter to celebrate her success. The shadow waited.

The moment the precinct was nearly deserted, the shadow came to life. It did take notice of the two novices chatting away in the break room. But the task would be over by the time the uniformed officers re-entered the bullpen. They were talking.  
"I liked the Asian guy. He seemed solid"  
"Blondie wasn't too bad either. I mean..."  
 _Gone. In and out in mere minutes, just like training._  
The two uniformed officers were alone in the building once again. Soon, the night shift descended on them. And the El Paso PD's precinct resumed its usual hustle-bustle.

Away from the precinct, out of the reach of a streetlight's glow, the shadow materialised into a familiar form. It breathed so hard and deep, her chest rumbled. Sighing, Monica glanced at her watch.  
9:30 pm.  
She looked up and away into the distance. A car passed along the street few yards away from her. Next to her, alley cats hissed at each other. The gloom of the night around didn't touch Monica. She had enough of her own.  
She seemed to be looking far away into another world. Her green eyes, now hidden under brown, saw the brightest spot in her world. She closed her eyes and said to it,  
"Good night, Veronica. I love you"

* * *

 **Washington DC**

His job had made him speedy and efficient when it came to packing. He just had to hear the words _"Wheels up"_ , and he was ready to chase after a serial killer. Never once had Spencer thought that he would be chasing after the woman he loved.  
Monica, his own St. Monica - how could she do this to him? To him and Veronica!  
"Hey", he said to Harper, "Can I talk to Nica for a second?"  
"She's your kid"  
Harper gave her little cousin a smile before leaving the room. Spencer took the chair she had vacated, preparing his mind for the talk he was about to have with Veronica.  
Though only three years old, she seemed to understand that something was going on in their house. Her doe eyes watched him with care and concern. Spencer smiled at her, mostly to ease the anticipation creasing her brow.  
"You like playing with Harper, don't you?", he asked.  
Veronica nodded.  
"Yeah"  
"She tells me she likes spending time with you too. So does Nathan", he said.  
Veronica didn't respond to that.  
"Sweetheart", Spencer said, "I was wondering if you would like to stay with Aunt Audrey and Uncle Mark for a while"  
"At their house?"  
"Yes"  
Veronica seemed to give it a thought before asking him,  
"Will you stay with me too?"  
"I'm sorry but I can't. I have to go out of town again. It's..."  
She asked,  
"Work?"  
"Sort of"  
"Will Monica come back before you do?"  
"I sure hope so"  
That seemed to make up her mind.  
"Okay. I'll stay with Aunt Audrey 'til you get back"  
He said,  
"It will be fun. You and Bubbly will enjoy it, I'm sure"  
"I know"  
He watched her look away from him and reach for her bunny. Veronica snuggled with the toy. She kept petting it for a while.  
Spencer said,  
"Nica, I want to ask you something about Monica"  
"What?"  
"Last night, did she tell you she was... did she tell you she had to go somewhere?"  
"Uh-huh"  
"What did she say?"  
"She said she _had to_ go away"  
Veronica caressed bunny's ears, saying,  
"I didn't want her to go, but..."

* * *

 _Last night –_

Veronica didn't like it. Where was Monica going? And why wasn't she taking Nica with her?  
"Why do you have to go?"  
Monica told her,  
"To find peace"  
"Peas?"  
Monica smiled,  
"Peace. It means... not feeling bad anymore"  
"Why are you feeling bad? Were you naughty?"  
"No, darling. I... I just... I'm going so that I can stop feeling what I am feeling. You're a smart girl. You must have noticed that I haven't quite been myself lately"  
"Yeah. Daddy said you're sad. Why are you sad?"  
Monica took a deep breath, which seemed like a big effort to Veronica.  
"It's because Uncle George died. I'm sorry I had to tell you that, baby, but you deserve to know"  
 _Uncle George?_  
 _Her_ Uncle George?  
But how could he die? She had skyped with him just last Sunday.  
Veronica asked, feeling confused,  
"He died?"  
"Yes, sweetie. I'm sorry"  
She couldn't picture it. How does a real person die?  
"Like in the cartoons? His eyes became X's?"  
"That's not how it happens with real people. Think of it like going to sleep, and never waking up"  
"But... but that is so sad"  
"I know"  
"Can't we wake him up?"  
"I wish we could, honey. I wish"  
She had never seen Uncle George asleep. She had seen him skate-dancing. She had seen him eat two cupcakes at once, but never sleeping. Veronica wondered why they couldn't wake him up.  
"Can we go visit him?", she asked.  
"We can. We can see the place where he was laid down, but not his body. It's covered"  
"In a coffin?"  
Monica's eyebrows rose. She asked,  
"How do you know about coffins?"  
"Wyatt's Mom is in a coffin. He told me when his Mom died, they put her in a box and they call it a coffin, and he sat with her all day 'til his Dad came over to get him"  
"Oh... that must have been terrible for him"  
Her friend Wyatt seemed all right to Veronica. He did get weird sometimes when someone asked him about his Mom. But he was always nice to Veronica.  
"He's okay. He says his Mom comes to visit him every night. She stands by his bed and smiles at him"  
"What..."  
"Mon? Is Uncle George going to visit us too?"  
"Darling, I don't think so. Dead people can't visit us"  
Veronica heard Monica mumble to herself,  
"I'm going to have to talk to Wyatt's Dad when I get back..."  
Veronica would have liked Uncle George to come and visit them. The thought of never seeing him again made her feel like she had swallowed something bad. Something that stayed in her stomach and hurt. But she had to know.  
"Are we never going to see Uncle George again?"  
"No, darling. I'm sorry"  
Death was _bad_. It didn't sit well with her, made her feel spooky.  
And why did Uncle George go to a sleep he could never wake up from? Didn't he know he could never see them again if he did?  
"We may not be able to meet him again, Veronica, but... in a way, he's not really gone", Monica said.  
"How?"  
"Well... let's see. Did Daddy tell you about atoms?"  
"Yeah. Everything is made of atoms. And they are so tiny we can't see them"  
Monica smiled,  
"That's right"  
She smoothed the hair falling over Veronica's forehead. She said,  
"You see, even when people die, their atoms don't. Their atoms become a part of something else. A gust of wind, a leaf, a little insect, or maybe another person. Even if all those atoms are no longer together, they do exist. They are all around us. So in a way, part of Uncle George will always be around us. And do you know why his atoms won't move too far away from us?"  
"Why?"  
"Because he loved us and we loved him. And we will always remember him. When we miss him, we will talk about him. We will see his pictures, we will watch those terrible home videos he liked to make of himself"  
Veronica giggled,  
"I like his videos"  
Monica just smiled. She finally said,  
"I miss Uncle George. And it makes me sad. But I don't want to be sad anymore. He hated the idea of anyone being sad. I have to do right by him. I... I mean... I have to go so that I'm not sad around you and Daddy anymore. You understand that, don't you, my love?"  
Veronica thought she didn't, but she nodded anyway. Monica looked pleased, like that's what she had wanted to hear.  
"When will you be back?", Veronica asked.  
"A few weeks or more"  
"Weeks?!"  
"I'm sorry but I have to"  
What was she supposed to do without Monica? Who was going to watch Dora the Explorer with her? Who was going to sing to her in the bath and at bedtime? Daddy was fun, and Veronica had always thought she loved Daddy more. But now she wanted to be with Monica wherever she was going.  
"Can I come with you?", she hoped.  
"No, sweetheart. It's too... you will be safe here. Harper and Nathan are going to come see you tomorrow"  
"They are?! Yay!"  
The thought of being with her favourite cousins drove her worries away. Monica's sadness and Uncle George's death didn't seem like a big deal anymore. If only she could have a sleepover at Aunt Audrey's house...

* * *

 _Now_ –

Spencer asked,  
"She didn't tell you where exactly she was going then?"  
Veronica shook her head. She yawned and put her little hand over her mouth.  
It was nap time.  
"Thanks for telling me that. Come on"

After a while, he lifted Veronica into his arms and carried her to the car. He strapped her into her seat. Harper sat next to her.  
When Spencer was locking their front door, it struck him hard just what kind of journey he was about to embark upon.  
He was going after Monica. He had to stop her before she did something stupid and put herself in further danger. But if she had already erred against the law... he didn't know if he had it in him to bring her to justice.  
"You guys buckled in?"  
He observed them in the rear-view mirror. Veronica was already nodding off. Harper gave him a non-committal "Hm".  
Spencer drove to Audrey's house, where he would drop off Veronica and Harper. And then drive himself to the airport.

"I specifically told you to stay and be there for your girlfriend. Reid, you can't just abandon your..."  
"Emily", Spencer said over phone, "I am coming over _because_ of Monica"  
"What do you mean?"  
God, how was he going to explain it? Tell his friends that the woman they knew as his sweet, friendly girlfriend was a former spy. One who was chasing the same serial killer they were. And if push came to shove, he would have to tell them the truth about Monica and Beatrice too.  
"I'll explain when I get there. I have to go now. We're about to take off"  
He hung up and put his phone on airplane mode.

The flight attendant began her instructions, none of which he could focus on. All he could think about was Monica and the possible look, of having been betrayed, upon the faces of his friends. They would loathe him forever probably for having kept Monica's involvement in the Beatrice disaster a secret from them. That had cost them Roane, and Emily and Luke too almost.  
He tried to bolster what courage he could summon. Nothing was more important than getting to George's murderer in time, before Monica could get to him. Spencer didn't have enough data to guess who would be more easier to find - a serial killer or a former spy.

* * *

 **El Paso, Texas**

The slimy guy at the reception had given her an appraising look at first. But when Monica began with her 'battered wife fleeing her husband' charade, he was holding the door open for her and telling her she didn't have to worry because he kept a shotgun under his desk at the reception. She had thanked him in a shaky voice before closing the motel room door from within.

Now she finished her humble dinner of chicken pot pie while sitting at the creaky table, wearing her headphones. She could only bring herself to eat for nourishment. Proteins were good when you were on an assignment. She would need the carbs too for what she was going to do to that bastard when she caught him.  
At the thought of his murderer, George's laugh rang in her ears. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. She forced herself to. Her ribcage thrummed with the impact of that _deep_ breath. She concentrated on the sound coming from the headphones. Now George came to her in mental pictures, memories. Memories of seeing his corpse in the morgue, his handsome face bludgeoned, his skin so pale and cold...  
She invited less depressing thoughts. None came.

 _'A man who desires revenge should dig two graves'_  
She remembered her Grandpapa telling George that when they were little.  
But this wasn't about revenge for Monica. Vengeance had nothing to do with it.  
It was about battling injustice, and setting a wrong right. If she had to live in a world where George wasn't alive anymore, she couldn't stand the thought of George's murderer living in it too.  
She read through the police files she had obtained, those which detailed his past deeds. For all his karma, the man deserved death and torment. And if Monica had to be the one to deliver it, she would do so gladly.

At 7:40 AM, she lay in bed and kept listening. Sleep wasn't even the last thing on her mind. Because Dr. Reid had arrived.  
Tears came to her eyes on hearing his voice through the headphones. She would have recognised his voice anywhere. She held the headphones with both hands, wanting to feel the vibrations of his voice on her skin.  
Judging from the authoritarian tone, Emily was angry with him for flying over. He had to talk to her, to the team.  
Would he tell them everything? Monica knew he had to do.  
She hated herself for having put Spencer in that situation. What felt worse was eavesdropping on him and his teammates. All of them, who had only ever treated her so well. But she knew it was her best chance of catching George's murderer. Loath herself for it as she might, she had to do it. She was a spy, not an investigator. She couldn't risk going after the guy herself and get tangled in the investigation.  
There was no turning back anymore. No point in making mistakes for the sake of ethics.  
 _"There's something I should have told all of you about Monica"_  
Her face darkened with pain on hearing the anguish in his voice. She hoped against all hope that his friends wouldn't detest him because of her. They should hate her, damn her. But Dr. Reid didn't deserve one iota of hatred. It was all due to her.  
"I'm sorry"  
She whispered, despite of knowing he couldn't hear her.  
"I'm so sorry, Spencer"

* * *

In the El Paso PD's bullpen, Spencer's teammates had gathered around him. He could tell he was dripping of guilt, and the most highly skilled profilers he knew would catch on to it too.  
"There's something I should have told all of you about Monica"  
He was composing his thoughts when Emily said,  
"Not here"  
She turned and began walking to the farthest end of the bullpen. Her team didn't need a cue. They followed, and came to a stop by turning to Spencer.  
He felt like he was on trial. But their faces didn't suggest judgment. They suggested empathy and concern.  
Sometimes he wondered if he deserved to have them as his friends.  
"Reid?"  
It was time for him to come clean. There was no way he was going to find the UnSub on his own. His team had to know _everything_ if they were to catch the guy in time.  
"Monica", he began, "...is in El Paso. She left some time last night. And I think... I _know_ she is looking for the man who killed her brother"  
He had braced himself for a delayed reaction. But Matt's sudden exclamation surprised him.  
"Monica? Your Monica?", Matt said, "That's... but she's so..."  
Tara finished the sentence,  
"Non-threatening"  
Being more intimately acquainted with him and Monica, JJ was angry.  
"Is she out of her mind? She could get herself killed. What was she thinking? She doesn't have the skills to track down a serial killer"  
Spencer spoke,  
"Actually, she used to work for the British government"  
When they gave him an incredulous look, he explained.  
"The Security Service. MI5"  
"Hang on a second", Luke asked, "Monica is a _spy_?"  
"Was. It was a..."  
Luke went on in a low voice, dismayed,  
"She just made dog biscuits for Roxy last month"  
No one seemed inclined to accept what he was saying. They looked utterly bewildered. Emily was quiet though, too quiet. Spencer's eyes met hers and she sighed.  
"I had a feeling about her, like we were... kindred spirits. I wasn't sure what exactly it was, but... anyway"  
Emily demanded their attention. She said,  
"I don't have to tell you all that this doesn't leave the room. We can't involve the El Paso PD. This is something the BAU is going to have to deal with _personally_ "  
No one contested that. Spencer simply watched his friends' faces, a pang of guilt coursing through him for having involved them.  
Emily continued,  
"We have a former MI5 spy going after our UnSub. Reid knows her best, and I know how the mind of a spy works. While working on finding the UnSub, some of us also need to be looking for Monica. That will be me, Reid and Matt"  
Matt gave a nod. Spencer looked from him to Emily. For a moment, he was distracted by how tired she looked. But she went on despite of it.  
"It is crucial that we bring the UnSub into custody before Monica finds him. It is unlikely that she will, but I don't want to underestimate her. We either do that, or we get to Monica first. But if you ask me, that might be more difficult than it sounds"  
JJ said,  
"No offence, but it's Monica. Reid knows her the best. He can find her before she gets to the UnSub"  
Emily shook her head, saying,  
"It's not that easy to find someone who doesn't want to be found. Especially someone with that particular skill set. Anyway, we have been huddled together too long. We are drawing attention. We'll take this up again soon. For now, let's focus on the UnSub"  
They dispersed just in time. Some of the El Paso PD officers had begun to throw curious looks their way. Spencer ignored those looks aimed at him and walked to the window.

The merciless Texas sun shone over the city , swaddling it in heat and sweat. As Spencer gazed into the streets below, he reminisced about the face that owned his thoughts. He made a vow to himself.  
 _'I am taking you back home to Veronica before you do anything that ruins our life. You're coming home with me, Monica'_


	44. Calls

" _And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in"  
\- Jane Austen _

* * *

Spencer worked relentlessly. Everything was at stake - his life with Monica, her place in Veronica's life, Monica's own life. He tried to connect all the dots, cross all the lines, but nothing. It wasn't until his fourth day in El Paso, that he could hope.  
"It's either him", Matt pointed to the photographs on the white board, "Or him"  
Luke said,  
"That should be easy enough to verify. I'll call Garcia"  
Before anyone could protest, Luke walked away and placed the call. Tara and Emily exchanged a glance, smiling. Spencer was too pre-occupied to notice what was happening around him. His entire purpose in life had become to find George's killer before Monica did. He wouldn't allow her to get blood on her hands. Something like that would destroy her, who she really was.  
"Reid, what do you think?", Emily asked.  
He stared at the pictures of both the men, one of whom was responsible was George's murder. All the information he knew about them processed itself in his mind, making his eyes rove over the board in rapid succession.  
"Reid?"  
' _Have to catch him before Mon…'_  
JJ said,  
"Reid, your phone is ringing"  
Ready to dismiss the call, he looked at the screen to hit the red option. But the screen said "Dr. Monica Knight calling". He couldn't believe what he was seeing or saying. But he managed to speak.  
"It's Monica"  
"What?", Matt said.  
Emily didn't waste any time. She walked over to Luke and yanked the phone out of his hands. She gave instructions to Garcia to intercept the call coming on Reid's phone. When Emily gave him a nod, Spencer answered the call.

There was so much he wanted to say, to yell. But the moment he heard Monica's voice, Spencer's anger vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense for her safety, and longing.  
"Hey doc. You're most likely quite angry with me", she said.  
He choked a faint sob,  
"You think?"  
"I'm sorry. I just… I needed some time alone to process everything. It was wrong, but I don't regret it. I do miss the hell out of you and Veronica though"  
"Monica, I know you're in El Paso"  
Across from him, Emily shook her head, urging him to say anything else but that. Reid was beyond listening. He had to tell Monica what he wanted before she was lost to him forever.  
"I know your story is you're in England, but I know you're here. Tell me I'm wrong"  
Monica didn't reply for a moment. She said at last,  
"I have a ticket and everything. There's a stamp on my passport"  
"That doesn't mean shit when it comes to you and you know it"  
"I know you're angry"  
His voice quavered,  
"Don't. Please. I can't lose you like this. Killing that man will not bring your brother back"  
From the other end, he could hear the tremor in Monica's voice. Spencer clutched the phone tighter, willing herself to come back to him. She said,  
"Veronica is loving it at Audrey's, huh? How's Bu…"  
"Monica, please don't do it"  
She sighed, her voice thickening with a sob. She said, resignation echoing in her voice,  
"I have to go. I love you"  
"Monica? No. Monica?"  
She hung up.  
Spencer stood there, unaware of the stares pointed at him. His hand holding the phone fell limp to his side. He vaguely heard Emily speak on the phone,  
"Did you get it? How is that possible? Garcia, English. Fine. Keep me updated"  
When he looked up, Emily was looking at him, trying her best to hide the sympathy so apparent on her face. He turned away and went back to the board.  
"Spencer…"  
He said without looking back,  
"We need to find this guy"  
That was all he said, before throwing himself into work again.

Garcia, bless her, had compared cellphone tower locations and employment records for the last ten years for both the suspects. She called the team and relayed the information to them.  
"I'm 99% sure it's Christian Leslie"  
Matt said,  
"He fits the profile better"  
Emily rose from her seat, saying,  
"No time to waste. Garcia, his address"  
"Already sent"  
"Thanks"  
Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He tightened his holster, checking his gun. Monica's face appeared over and over again in his mind. He took a deep breath to steel himself, and followed his team out of the El Paso PD's precinct.

Christian Leslie lived in a rundown apartment building in the shadier parts of Dallas, true to the geographical profile Spencer had drawn. If he was the perp, taking him down wouldn't be easy. 6'3" tall, weighing over 200 pounds, he was unlikely to go down without a fight. Thinking of it only made Spencer glad that he had gotten to the UnSub before Monica could. But his hope began to crack like fragile glass when Emily told him and the team,  
"Landlord says he saw Leslie going out at 8:30. He usually spends his Friday night at the bar six blocks from here. I need four of you to…"  
"I'm going"  
"Reid…"  
He was walking towards the police SUV before she could stop him.

Luke and Spencer had tried to blend into the bar crowd, only that there wasn't a crowd to begin with. It was the filthiest bar Spencer had ever seen. Drunk men who stank to high heaven were sprawled in it wherever they could find space. Matt was trying to get the incoherent owner to speak up.  
"That's him, all right. He's one of ma regulars. He came in just a while ago. He ain't in trouble though he is?"  
"When did he leave?"  
"Just about five minutes before you came in. I s'ppose you guys just missed him by a moment"  
The owner grinned, hanging his head. The bartender told Matt,  
"Don't mind Lou. He ain't in his right mind. Leslie left minutes before I saw you come in. Took some working girl along on his arm"  
Spencer pushed past the drunk owner of the bar and Matt to question the bartender. He feared the worst.  
"What did she look like?"  
The bartender scratched his armpit, shrugging,  
"Just like 'em whores. Prostitutes, I mean. Cheap dress and…"  
"No. Her hair, her eyes. The colour of her hair, her height, her face"  
"She was real blonde. Runny makeup, not too tall, I guess. She had Leslie drooling all over her in seconds"  
Feeling sick and disgusted to the pit of his stomach, Spencer showed the bartender a picture of Monica. He asked,  
"Did she look like this?"  
The bartender watched the photo up close for a minute. He shrugged,  
"Not the hair or anything, but that's her face all right"  
Luke cursed under his breath and Matt turned away. Spencer simply stood rooted to the spot, his face a grim mask of indifference.  
Monica had done it after all.

* * *

A car honked hard as she swerved past it. The limp body in her trunk was her only concern. Elephant tranquillizer may have had put the bastard down but she didn't trust the effect to last longer than an hour. Her brother's murderer was a heavy brute. And a disgusting asshole. She had endured his touch in the bar, but now that she thought of it… she felt sick, and ready to barf.  
' _Control yourself'_ , she thought, ' _You can't afford to stop now'_  
Trying with all her might, she focused on the driving instead. She scratched at her hairline where she had glued on the peroxide blonde wig.  
' _Almost there'_

She soon pulled the truck into an empty lot right outside the dock. As she got out of the car, darkness swarmed in around her. The dock workers were far away, enough that she could stow the burden in the container she had access to. His shoes made some screeching noise as she dragged him into the darkness of the empty metal container and shut the door from within.


	45. Chairs

A/N: TW - blood, torture, cuss words.  
The next chapter will be up this Sunday. Please let me know what you thought of this one. Thanks!

* * *

 _"I am haunted. All my dreams are nightmares"_

 _– Susan Sontag_

* * *

His eyelids were so fucking droopy. It felt like he was waking up from the biggest drunken episode he had ever had. And there was pain too. He had a hard time placing it.  
But how? He hadn't drunk that much last night. The last thing he remembered was getting into his car with the who…  
 _'No. Oh no. No fucking way'  
_ As he opened his eyes wider, his vision cleared. There was a single light bulb on the table to his right, a really powerful one. In its light, he could see the whore from last night. She was standing before him against the wall. And she wasn't blonde no more. She wasn't even wearing the same clothes.  
And where the hell had she brought him?  
He tried to move his arms, but couldn't. Leslie looked down at his arm and saw his wrists tied to the chair he was sitting in. The massive bulk of his entire body was tied up in that chair like he was an animal.  
Indignant with rage on seeing himself bound, he gave a mighty tug at the restraints. What the fuck was it? Tape? It wouldn't even budge.  
"Hrrmph!"  
Try as he might, he couldn't speak through the gag she had shoved in his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but there was tape on his mouth too.  
 _'When I get out of these, I'm going to show this bitch what…'  
_ Why did she have a hammer?  
Without saying a word, she walked to him with it. Did she think she could hurt him with that little garden tool?  
 **"MMRRMM!"  
** _ **Cruckkk.  
**_ His knuckles made a scrunching noise when she slammed the hammer on his hands. He didn't get another chance to scream as the hammer went down a second time, breaking his index and middle fingers. The pain shot through his hand making him recoil.  
 _ **Thud! Crrrackk!  
**_ **"MMMRRM!"  
** The bitch broke his thumb next. The pain was beyond anything he had ever endured. He tried to scream in vain. But the hammer went down on his other hand.  
 _'MERCY!'  
_ All that came out of his mouth was another muffled sound too faint to hear. His fingers dangled loosely from his hands, the pain making him see white before his eyes.  
But the bitch wasn't done.  
She walked to the table with her back to him. When she turned he saw a nail gun in her hands.  
 _'No, God. Please. Please…'  
_ He bawled his eyes out when she shot a nail right through his foot, pinning it to the floor. His other foot suffered the same fate.  
One nail each didn't satisfy her. Leslie cried helplessly as she fired two more nails in each foot. Hot, sticky blood began to trickle down his feet, forming a little pool.  
She stood up then and pointed the nail gun at his left hand. Leslie tried to shake his head no, tried to scream too, but he couldn't move his neck either. She had rendered him completely immobile.  
Searing pain cut through his hands once again as the nails pierced through his flesh and cartilage. He tried to scream and curse, but his throat felt raw and dry. The pain was so much he would have gladly died in that moment. But the woman looked him in the eye, demanding his attention. Her green eyes looked eerily calm for what she had just done to him.  
"You have killed people, four that I'm sure of. We wouldn't have crossed paths if you hadn't killed my brother"  
 _'Her brother? But I only ever killed that one guy'_ , he realized, _'Oh fuck. The man outside El Paso'  
_ "You stabbed him because you couldn't get your dick up to rape him. You like experimenting with pain. I'm going to show you pain"  
That was her plan? To torture him?  
 _'Oh God, no. No. Please. Please…'  
_ "In case you start to think you can get out of here…"  
She walked to the table again and returned with the hammer.  
Leslie could do nothing but bear the excruciating pain as she broke all his toes with the hammer. He cried where he sat as she slammed the hammer against his ankles. It made a sickening noise every time that brought him more agony.  
Soon, the pain became too much for his body to take. And his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fainted.

* * *

Reid sat on the chair by the window in the El Paso PD bullpen. The sky had turned a less midnight shade of blue, while the lights outside on the street illuminated his back. His hands seized the warm cup of coffee between them, but his fingers still twitched. The rest of his body seemed to have gone completely still.  
Except for his heart. It was beating fast enough to cause palpitations.  
"I know, but he needs some time. Look at him"  
He heard Emily's voice almost whispering that to… someone. They were already talking like he wasn't there. His mind definitely wasn't. It was somewhere in the past, trying to cope with what Monica had done.  
There was no future for them anymore, for her. She was going to kill Christian Leslie. And when they found his body, he would have to play a hand in sending her to prison.  
 _'Monica… in prison…'_  
He couldn't bring himself to wish that upon her. Knowing too well how horrifying life inside the walls of a prison could be, for a good person, he hoped and prayed Monica hadn't killed Leslie yet. But what were the odds of him getting to her in time? He had already failed once.  
"Emily? Emily"  
Spencer looked up on hearing the anxiety in JJ's voice. Sergeant Crawford trailed after her, trying to match her speed. JJ was holding a tiny black device in her hand. She held it up for Emily to see, seething with indignation.  
"I found this in the window over there"  
Sergeant Crawford insisted,  
"That is _not_ ours!"  
Tara tried to get a look at the device.  
"What is it?"  
Emily took it from JJ, eyeing it with an unsettling familiarity. She didn't have to say anything. She looked at Reid from across the room, giving him a sad, meaningful glance.  
Matt observed,  
"That is one high quality bug"  
Sergeant Crawford shook his head.  
"I have no idea how someone managed to bug the precinct", he sighed, "The Captain is going to have my badge for this"  
No one from the BAU commented on that. They exchanged looks with each other, avoiding looking anywhere near Spencer, on purpose. He stared at what he could see of the bug in Emily's hand.

Spencer's fear and grief was slowly being turned into anger and humiliation. It wasn't enough for Monica that she had now ruined three lives, including her own and Veronica's. She had had to betray his trust yet again.  
And he was not going to forgive her this time.  
"I have to ask, I'm sorry", Emily said.  
She stood by his chair. The black device lay before his eyes on her open palm. She asked,  
"Have you seen any of these before?"  
He managed to shake his head no. Emily said, lowering her voice,  
"These are not the sophisticated transmitters you can find on the black market these days. A few millimeters of water would make them useless. They are old school… preferred by British intelligence"  
As the whole precinct swooped into action to locate the planted bugs, an officer held one up and announced,  
"Found another one!"  
Emily turned to Spencer again. She looked sorry to say it.  
"Spencer, if this is her… she knew everything we were doing. Every step of the way. I don't have to tell you how many federal laws that violates. If this was her doing..."  
With his feet weighing him down like concrete, he got up out of the chair. When Monica's smiling face came to his mind, he shoved the image away, wanting to blot it out forever. The pulse in his throat hurt as he opened his mouth to speak and say,  
"We need to bring her in"

* * *

' _No!'_  
Monica woke up with a gasp. Sweat clung to her body, soaking the t-shirt she was wearing. Her head felt light, almost dizzyingly light. She attributed that to the scarcity of oxygen in the container. Ignoring the anxiety she felt, she looked at the chair Leslie was strapped to. From behind it, she could see his head slumped to the right side. She had chosen to sleep behind him on purpose – to prevent him from seeing her vulnerable in her sleep and thinking he could overpower her, and to keep an eye on him in case he supposed she had left and tried to make a run for it. There was no way he was running to anywhere again in his life. She had shattered both his kneecaps too last night.  
Monica got to her feet and walked to the chair. Leslie was knocked out cold. She had initially been reluctant to shoot him with the elephant tranquilizer again, knowing it would help numb his pain. But there was no alternative. If she meant to get some shut eye, she had to make sure he wasn't awake. If he overpowered her somehow, she was done for. He towered over her by almost a foot and half, and probably weighed thrice her weight. She would have to keep him drugged until…  
 _'What? Until what? Until you kill him?'_ , she asked herself.  
Monica choked back the sob that threatened to pour out of her throat, not wanting to admit she wasn't prepared for murder. She took a few deep breaths to gain some control over her emotions, but to no avail. Her brother's face haunted her mind, as painful as the blade of a knife twisting in her heart.  
She saw him picking her up after she had fallen off a swing, when she was seven. She saw him staying up all night in that uncomfortable chair, next to her hospital bed. She saw him making Veronica laugh. She saw him playing video games with Max. She saw him lying dead on that stretcher. She saw his pale dead face and his hands…  
Monica pushed open the doors of the container and stepped out. She forced herself to remember her training, to wipe out emotions. It took her a minute to realize she was outside the container. Now she had less than six minutes to use the filthy toilet at the back of the yard before one of the night watchmen woke up and saw her.

Monica washed her hands over and over again. Of course she would keep him drugged. Until… until it felt right. Until _she_ felt right. She had felt nothing but revulsion and horror so far. He deserved to be hurt for what he had done to George, to all those women. Wasn't this justice? Wasn't this right?  
Then why were her hands shaking? Why did she want to scream and cry at once?  
Before she could know what was happening, she sobbed. And in seconds, it turned into weeping. With her head hanging over the wash basin, Monica wept. Her frame shook with the weight of her sadness and guilt. Hollow sobs issued from her chest as tears streamed down her face. She tried to pull herself together, but a cry escaped her mouth. She clamped a hand shut on her mouth. Her body trembled, unable to contain her grief.  
When no technique she knew helped her gain even some semblance of control, she channelled her pain into anger. There was someone in her captivity who deserved all the pain she could bring. _He_ was the one who deserved to suffer.

Wiping the tears off her face, Monica felt for the knife in her jeans pocket. She hadn't kept it on the table, not wanting her brother's murderer to have even the slightest chance of breaking free of his restraints. She gripped the hilt of the knife, watched the morning's first rays play on its blade through the window. Then she turned on her feet and set out for Leslie.


	46. Paths

_"I can never fight for myself, but for others, I can kill"_

 _– Emilie Autumn_

* * *

In the El Paso PD's bullpen, Spencer and Emily stood deep in conversation. Their eyes were bloodshot from a lack of sleep. Spencer could feel the exhaustion right down to his bones. But he soldiered on.  
"It's not enough for a warrant", he said.  
He had been trying his best to dissociate himself from what Monica meant to him. Love, happiness, safety, warmth, a future. Those would soon be things of the past.  
Emily said,  
"Nobody's putting out a warrant for her"  
"Emily, I appreciate it but…"  
"Look", she said, "You're mad at her right now and you have every reason to suspect all this is her doing. But a warrant would seal that. It doesn't matter if she actually goes to prison for Leslie's murder or not, that judge in Seattle will consider it enough to take Veronica away from her. From you. Is that what you want?"  
Thinking of his daughter, he could counter that argument with nothing. Emily put a hand on his arm. She said,  
"I appreciate you wanting to do your job, to be objective, but we _have to_ think this through"  
"Even if Monica is a murderer?"  
"We don't know that for sure. Not yet. Right now, Leslie is a missing suspect, that's all"  
"Not for long", he said.  
Emily gave him a look.  
"Stop it", she said, "Listen, this is what you're going to do. Monica's cover story is that she's in England at her grandparents. You're going to call her grandmother and tell her that Monica has to come back for a routine questioning. You tell her that it's really important for Monica to be here. And you're calling her because Monica's gone off the grid"  
"She's not going to come in just because I call her grandmother"  
"Maybe. But it will stop you from wanting to get a warrant for her arrest"  
He released a wearisome sigh. Emily nudged him.  
"Hey", she said, "We'll find her, and we'll find Leslie. Alive"  
"Thank you"  
"Go make that call"

Spencer walked away from the scrutiny of the El Paso PD officers. Ever since the bugs had been found, they didn't seem to trust the BAU as much. But he didn't want to worry about it right then. His stomach was a knot at the prospect of calling Monica's grandmother. Taking a deep breath, he called Max to get her number.  
"Hey. It's Spencer"  
Max answered from the other end of the call.  
"Hey. Did you hear anything from Mon?"  
Spencer hesitated,  
"No. That's… that's actually what I'm calling you about. Could I get your grandmother's number? I-I think Monica must have checked in with her. Maybe something she knows can help me locate Monica"  
"Locate her? Spencer, is everything okay?"  
"Yeah. I…", he said, knowing he meant what he was about to say, "I just miss her"  
"I understand. And of course. I'll text you Nan's number"  
"Thank you. Hey, Max?"  
"Yeah"  
Spencer knew that George and Max had been inseparably close. It was twice as difficult for him, now that Monica was gone.  
"Are you doing okay?", Spencer asked.  
Max waited a beat before replying.  
"My brother was stabbed and bludgeoned to death. And the man who killed him lives and breathes, while George never will again. It's… I can handle Mom, Dad, and everyone else. But Monica hasn't been herself since he's been gone. I'm worried about her. She puts on a brave face, but George's death hit her the hardest. She's the youngest, Spencer. She's not the one supposed to be holding it together for the rest of us. I…"  
He listened patiently, and Max said,  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you more. But thanks for asking. I'll be fine. If you hear about Mon, let me know, okay?"  
"I will. Thanks, bye"

* * *

Before she could change her mind, Monica bolted the doors from within and faced Leslie. His head lolled at an unnatural angle. The pool of blood surrounding his feet had congealed. Mucus, sweat and tears grimed his face, making him look like the filthy being he was. Leslie gave her a look of meek resignation on seeing the knife in her hand.  
Monica clutched the knife so tight, her knuckles turned white. All she had to do now was stab him, like he had done to all those women, to George. But thinking of George made her hesitate. She stared into Leslie's face, summoning all the hatred she could feel, and willed herself to end it.  
 _'Do it. Do it! He killed George! He hurt all those innocent people!'_  
It wasn't what George would have wanted. If Max came to know what she had done, he would never look at her the same way. And Mom, Dad, Cathy. Audrey too.  
And Veronica.  
Monica's jaw clenched as she struggled to keep her emotions out of her actions. Her brain kept bombarding her with the voices and faces she so loved.  
 _"Monica, please don't do this"_  
 _'Spencer…'_  
Her hand visibly shook, loosening her grip on the knife. She retreated a step, thinking about the man she loved, the one she had hurt yet again. Right from beneath, her knees gave away and she collapsed on the floor. Her eyes never left Leslie's face. As Spencer's voice echoed in her mind, she realized something she should have known before setting herself on this path.  
"You deserve this", she said to Leslie, "…but not by my hand"  
Tears spilled over her face, her lip trembling. Through the mist in her eyes, she took in the sight of Leslie's weary expression turning into something hideous. His shoulders shook and a muffled sound could be heard through the gag in his mouth. Monica stared aghast at the man who had killed her brother.  
He was laughing at her.

Before she knew it, the sound of Leslie's laughter filled her world, and she was kneeling on the floor and vomiting. The nausea hit her so hard, she retched and coughed, doubling over. She shut her eyes to get away from the image of her hammer descending on his bones, the blood she had made him shed, the sound of his barely restrained laughter. The thoughts she struggled to keep at bay only made her puke harder. She held her hair back with sweating hands and let it all out. A haunting voice rang in her ears -  
 _"In the end, honey, you and I are not all that different"_  
A current of rage coursed through her veins, sweeping away the overwhelming disgust she felt towards herself.  
"No!", she yelled, willing the ghost to leave her alone.  
It laughed in answer. Leslie laughed too, as she vomited, struggled to breathe. It seemed their laughter would never cease.  
And then she saw George's face in her mind again.  
Her brother, a good man, who had dedicated his life to helping others, who had never hurt a living soul.  
Leslie's first victim, that 27-year old girl in Dallas, whose father died of a heart attack shortly after her murder.  
His second victim, the pregnant woman on her way home.  
His third victim, the 17-year old hitchhiker, killed a week before she would have turned eighteen.  
Bile rose in her throat, and ignoring everything she felt, Monica got to her feet. Leslie was still laughing at her, his blue eyes agog like a madman's. Monica walked ahead and plunged the knife in his guts.

Leslie's eyes widened, staring at her in absolute shock. He sounded like a wounded animal being eaten alive. Monica kept her hand on the hilt of the knife, breathing hard. The knife made a squelching sound as she pulled it out. Blood coated the blade and a large drop of it slowly dribbled onto Leslie's thigh. Leslie's body constricted for a moment, before it went completely still.  
Monica stepped back, the knife shaking in her hand like it would fall out of her grasp any second. She placed it on the table, walked to the doors of the container on wobbly feet and slumped to the floor. Then she curled onto her side and wept. She couldn't bring herself to hug her own knees. She lay there crying and shaking all over, wanting to undo everything she had done in the last six days.

* * *

 _'It's 11:30 here in Texas. Afternoon in Suffolk'_  
Spencer dialed the number Max had texted him. Judging from the extension, it was a telephone, and he hoped Monica's grandmother would be home to answer it.  
Two rings.  
Three.  
 _'Come on. Pick up'_  
Four.  
Fi…  
"Hello?"  
A man's gruff voice answered his call.  
 _'Her grandfather'_  
Spencer cleared his throat. He asked,  
"Is this Mr. Fleming?"  
"Yes. And who are you?"  
"Spencer Reid"  
He didn't have to explain who he was. Monica's grandfather was certainly familiar with his name. He had even written that name on the first edition Russian literature books he had sent to him.  
"Dr. Spencer Reid", Mr. Fleming said, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"  
He did not sound pleased at all.  
Spencer said,  
"I was hoping to talk to Mrs. Fleming. It's about Monica"  
"My wife has gone out to visit some of her friends. You can talk to me. What about Monica?"  
This wasn't what he had expected. He said,  
"Monica has gone off the grid. She told Audrey she was going to England. Is she there with you?"  
"No, she is not. I haven't heard from her since after George's funeral"  
"You haven't had any contact with her?"  
"Are you interrogating me?"  
"No. No, I was just hoping she would have gotten in touch with you. We need her to come to El Paso. For a routine questioning"  
"I assume this call is being taped"  
Of course, Monica had told her grandparents about her plan. And it was no wonder they were supporting her. As much as he wished he could get Mr. Fleming to admit that, Spencer didn't want to lie to the old man. He said,  
"Yes, sir"  
"Before you met my grandchild, Dr. Reid, you were in jail, weren't you?"  
What that had to do with anything, Spencer couldn't guess. But he answered.  
"I was"  
"When Monica was all but gushing about you to me, I told her – a man who has been in jail will often find his way back in. She became quite angry and defended you for about an hour. Why I remember that conversation is because of her answer. I asked her what she would have done if she loved you at the time you went to jail. Do you know what she said?"  
Spencer shook his head, then realized Mr. Fleming couldn't see him. Knowing Monica as well as he did, he had an idea what she might have said.  
"She said – I would have broken him out of prison, consequences be damned"  
In that moment, just right then, it hit him how bad he missed her.  
Forgetting her, punishing her, getting away from her – it all seemed like wishful thinking. How was he ever going to let her go? Was he strong enough to condemn the woman who loved him so much?  
"If you're as smart as she says, Dr. Reid, you should understand what that exactly entails. Monica would fight anything and everything to be with you. If you can't do the same for her, I suggest you stop telling yourself that you love her"  
Spencer told the man,  
"I didn't commit any of the crimes I was accused of doing. Monica had a choice. She made it"  
"You young toms think you have everything figured. I have shocking news for you, mate – the person you love is not always going to be perfect. But you can either live with them, let them atone for the bad decisions they make. Or you can spend the rest of your life alone in your castle of impenetrable morality"  
Spencer bit back a sharp retort. He said instead,  
"So you admit to knowing what Monica is up to?"  
"Well, yes. She left home without telling you beforehand. Now she hasn't been in contact, making you anxious. I don't condone that. A man worries"  
"You know well that's not what I'm talking about"  
"I don't. And I hope you get in touch with her soon. She's probably suffering as much as you are. Good day to you"  
Mr. Fleming ended the call.

For Spencer, the old man's words were still sinking in. He didn't have a moment to think otherwise before Luke rushed out of the precinct towards him. He stopped before Spencer, a worried look on his face.  
"They found Leslie here in El Paso, less than thirty minutes ago", he said.  
Spencer's mind sprang into action, the professional in him taking over. He exclaimed,  
"Roadblocks. We need to cor…"  
"The Chief is on it", Luke told him.  
Not allowing himself to hope just yet, Spencer glanced at the phone in his hand. The fact that Monica was now within their reach and the words her grandfather had said to him, they collided in his subconscious, each warring with the other.  
It was up to him to choose which path to take.


	47. Endings

_"Until we have seen someone's darkness, we don't really know who they are"_

 _– Marianne Williamson_

* * *

Monica stopped before the drugstore. She glanced at her right hand. The knuckles on it were swollen and an ugly shade of purple, from backhanding Leslie during the final struggle he had put up. She would need painkillers, and other stuff.  
The emergency phone in her bag vibrated against her side. She took it out and flipped it open. The caller spoke in Russian.  
"It's me"  
Monica recognized her grandfather's voice. She asked in the same language,  
"What's wrong?"  
"Your boyfriend called. He and his buddies…"  
She scolded,  
"Grandpa"  
"Da. He and his colleagues want you to see them for a "routine questioning". I suggest you call Audrey first"  
"No"  
"Why?"  
Monica grimaced. She sounded hopelessly exhausted to her own ears.  
"I'm tired. I'm so tired", she said, "I just want to see my boyfriend and my little girl. He wants me to go to the precinct, I'm going"  
"And what are you going to do there?"  
The lump in her throat hurt as she revealed.  
"Confess"  
"And have them take away Nicole's child? You think your act of martyrdom won't put _him_ in danger? They will think he helped you and his career will be over"  
"What do you want me to do?", she insisted, "I can't live like this. I did a horrible, horrible thing. I'm no better than Beatr…"  
"Hurting people pleased her. Did it please you?"  
She answered without any hesitation.  
"Not for one second. But I have to do what's right"  
"This is not just about you though, is it? You have to think of what's best for Veronica. You can't just abandon her to the mercy of a court because you have a conscience"  
"I know"  
Her grandfather said, his voice softening a bit,  
"I trust your judgment, zayka. You're a good person at heart. You will do what has to be done, be it right or wrong"  
"Thank you. I'll call you later, okay? Give my love to Nan. I love you"  
"Love you too"  
They hung up. Monica put the phone back into her bag and walked into the drugstore, her knuckles smarting like anything.

* * *

Emily had advised against it. But Spencer had to see it for himself. He had to see just how far Monica could go.  
Standing by his side, JJ didn't say anything. Outside the room Christian Leslie was in, he prepared himself to face what Monica had done. The uniformed officer held the door open for them. Spencer stepped inside, followed by JJ.  
George's murderer lay on the hospital bed, his hands and feet, and his torso covered in gauze and bandages. Anyone would have had a hard time associating that battered face with the photo they had on the precinct's white board. He was asleep, heavily sedated. Spencer noticed the man's height and weight again, trying to imagine how Monica had dealt with him. From what he could see, she had done what she had set out to do.  
JJ asked the doctor standing by the bed,  
"Is he going to live?"  
Dr. Navarro nodded. She said,  
"We have managed to stop the bleeding, but his body has suffered extensive trauma"  
Spencer couldn't help but feel a wisp of relief that Monica hadn't killed him after all. What she had done looked just as worse though, if not more.  
He asked the doctor,  
"Do you have a chart?"  
"Yes, right here"  
She handed him the writing pad on which Leslie's current condition was recorded. Spencer read through it in seconds, also hearing Dr. Navarro narrate it.  
"The bones in his hands and feet have been shattered with a heavy object. A hammer, I'm guessing. Same goes for his knees. There are puncture wounds too. Iron nails, is my educated guess. But the stab wound in his stomach came from something bigger. As you can see here, it is clean, through and through. The weapon missed his intestines by inches. When he came in, he was severely dehydrated. But he'll live"  
Spencer returned the chart to the doctor. He tried to dissociate what he was seeing from what he knew about Monica. If this was her doing, he wondered if he had ever really known her at all.  
JJ said to the doctor,  
"Were there any signs of hesitation in the injuries?"  
"I would say so. There are abrasions on his skin, from all the duct tape and chords the attacker used to tie him with. He was at their mercy. They could have done a lot more damage, if the intent was to kill him"  
JJ gave Spencer a discreet look, which he pointedly disregarded. He asked,  
"Can we see the orderly who brought him in?"  
"Yeah. Terry is at the reception. I'll send for him"  
"Thank you"  
Dr. Navarro left the room. With one last look at the wounded man, Spencer and JJ did too.

They were talking to the orderly who had wheeled Leslie into the hospital the night before. JJ took the lead.  
"When did you see him first?"  
Terry answered,  
"Some lady started screaming outside, so I popped out to check it. She was standing a good six feet away from him, pointing at him and screaming. He was just lying there on the pavement. I called for help and Gus and I got him on the stretcher. Then we wheeled him into the ER. Dr. Navarro took over after that"  
Spencer asked,  
"You didn't see anyone, didn't hear anything?"  
"No, I didn't. I swear", he said, "He was just lying there. Once the lady started screaming, people gathered. And I must have gone out in like seconds after that"  
JJ and Spencer both knew the screaming lady's, Mrs. Walker's, story. Matt and Tara had her with them at the precinct that very moment. She had come in to see her OBGYN, being the first patient that morning, and stumbled upon Leslie's body. According to her, there was no one around and she hadn't seen anything before getting out of her car, not even afterwards.  
Until Leslie, of course.  
"We need to see the footage from the cameras at the front", JJ said.  
Terry complied,  
"Sure. I'll take you there"  
She and Spencer followed him.

* * *

The duo got back to the precinct late in the afternoon. They had recounted to their team everything they had discovered in the hospital.  
Matt hung up after speaking to Garcia. He turned to his colleagues, saying,  
"Penelope ran the plates. They are fake"  
"And the vehicle?", Emily asked.  
"She says there are over a thousand black SUVs in El Paso alone. Without authentic plates, it's impossible to make any kind of identification"  
Tara pondered aloud,  
"So M… Leslie's attacker… he or she just beats him up, drives him to the hospital in a black SUV, dumps him out there, goes into reverse, and drives out of there, leaving us with… well, nothing"  
"If I didn't know better", Luke stated, "I'd say I was impressed"  
Everyone but Spencer warned him with a look, silencing him from saying anything more. Their attention was directed to Detective Riggs rushing towards them. He was nearly out of breath, as he revealed,  
"Leslie's dead. Shot. The second victim… Wendy Schoper's husband… he shot him in the hospital just now. We're going there to arrest him"  
Emily took control of the situation. She commanded her team,  
"Alvez, Lewis, Reid – you're coming with me. JJ, Simmons – get in touch with Penelope before this gets to the media. Come on"

There seemed to be no end to his nightmare. It had begun since that moment he received Catherine's call, telling him George had been murdered. And now vigilante justice had had its way. What Monica had avoided, had happened anyway. Spencer couldn't get Gavin Schoper's face out of his mind. The man had shown no remorse for having killed his wife's murderer.  
 _"I'd do it again if I could! I will send that son of a bitch to hell again if I have to! He killed my wife! He killed my baby!"_  
He had screamed that at the top of his lungs, as they put him into the police vehicle outside the hospital. The press had surrounded the scene like vultures, despite of the BAU and El Paso PD's efforts.

Spencer sat at an empty desk in the El Paso PD's bullpen, holding a cup of coffee. The precinct was quieter, most of the officers having gone home for the night. When he saw two of his friends walking over to him, he schooled his expression into something less depressing.  
"You doing okay?", JJ asked softly.  
He rubbed a hand across his face.  
"Yeah"  
"Get some sleep", she said.  
She squeezed his shoulder before moving away. Matt was about to follow her on the way out but Spencer said,  
"Matt?"  
He stopped.  
"Yeah?"  
Spencer was still in two minds about asking that question, but he pushed himself. He asked,  
"If your wife did something… like what Monica has done, would you… would you still be on her side?"  
Matt's shoulders seemed to tense, but he answered without missing a beat.  
"Yes"  
That wasn't the answer Spencer had expected from him. He said,  
"Even if she abducted and tortured a man for two days, risking her life and future with you and your children?"  
"Yes"  
"You… you're a federal agent. You have sworn to uphold the law"  
Matt had the sincerity to look a bit guilty as he said,  
"I know. Maybe this makes me bad at my job, but I'm just being honest. For me, nothing is more important than Kristy and my kids. She comes first, always will. I'm sorry if that's not the answer you want, Reid, but it's the truth"  
The sound of his phone ringing cut through the forced quiet. Matt said "Good night" and left. Spencer checked his phone and saw it was Harper calling. At 11:30 in the night.  
"Harper? Is everything okay? Vero…"  
 **"Daddy! Daddy, Monica is home! And she brought me _BUNNY PUPPETS!"_**  
Veronica screamed with joy, unaware that she had nearly stopped his heart. Spencer tried to speak over her exclamations.  
"Nica? Ni… Veronica… Sweetheart, that's really great. Honey, you're not listening to me. Why are you still awake? Can you… Veronica? Can you put Harper on the phone, please? Thank you"  
Harper said from the other end,  
"Do you want to talk to Monica? She just got here a while ago. Hang on. I'll…"  
The words were out of his mouth before he could think.  
"I don't want to talk to Monica"  
"Um… okay. We just called because you were worried about her"  
He managed to say,  
"Tell Monica to keep her phone on"  
"Will do"  
"Thanks, Harper"  
He was supposed to hang up. But certain questions were on the tip of his tongue, dangerously close to spilling.  
 _'Tell me, Harper, is she okay? Does she look okay?'_  
He forced himself to disconnect the call. Not allowing himself another moment of introspection, Spencer called Emily.  
"Monica reached DC a while ago. Her niece called to let me know. You can call and ask her to come here for the questioning. You have her number"  
He hung up before Emily could ask him more.

* * *

 ** _Next Day –_**

Spencer listened patiently to Veronica's complaining. She was going on the phone about how mad she was at Monica for leaving again so soon. He didn't try to defend her. But he assured his little heart.  
"Maybe Monica will make it up to you somehow, Nica"  
Veronica exclaimed,  
"She'd better!"  
That drew a reluctant smile from him at last. He glanced at his watch and told her,  
"Sweetheart, I have to go now. But I'll call you later"  
She sighed dramatically,  
"Okay"  
"Be good to Harper and Nathan, okay? I love you"  
"I love you too"  
"Bye"  
"Bye, Daddy"  
He hung up and pocketed his phone. When he looked up, the precinct looked just like it did on a regular morning. No one seemed to be affected by the fact that Monica could be walking through those doors any minute. He was so on edge, he could barely keep the morning coffee and that doughnut in his stomach. To try and take his mind off her, Spencer moved away from Detective Riggs' empty desk to get some more coffee. He stopped midway on hearing the whispers behind his back.  
When he turned, his coworkers had all stopped doing what they were doing, and turned to the doors. Two uniformed officers were whispering to each other.  
"That's the victim's sister. The guy the serial killer popped"  
Detective Riggs was escorting Monica inside the precinct. And Spencer could see no one else after.

It took all of his self-control to stand where he was and not run to her. Across the bullpen, she too stopped on seeing him. For all he knew, they could have been the only two people alive in that moment.  
Spencer couldn't stop staring at her face. He gazed at every feature so dear to him, each of which he had kissed countless times. The curve of her cheekbones, the slope of her nose, the shape of her lips, the spark in her eyes, the firm set of her shoulders. He couldn't stop himself from recalling the first time he had seen her, wearing that canary yellow sweater. But this wasn't the same woman. So much had happened since.  
Love, Beatrice, injury, Veronica, death.  
He wouldn't have traded this jaded-looking woman for that lovely girl he had seen in the library. He loved _this one_ , the one with all her flaws. And he hoped to God Monica was innocent, though in his heart he knew the truth.  
"Reid?", Emily said.  
He couldn't take his eyes off her. Monica couldn't either. She seemed to come back to reality when Detective Riggs gently nudged her towards the waiting room. Spencer observed her reluctance to break her gaze away from him, until she disappeared out of his sight.  
"I need you to sit this one out. Detective Riggs is going to be there while JJ and Matt talk to her. The El Paso PD doesn't know about your involvement with her. They think she is here just so we can confirm her family wasn't involved in the abduction of Leslie. They don't know that she might have had a hand in it, and we're not going to give them the idea. You got it?"  
Spencer nodded. Emily gave his arm a pat.  
"Come on. We'll watch from outside"  
He walked with her towards the visitors' room.

JJ hated being involved in this. Moreover, she hated knowing what her best friend was going through. Part of her understood why Monica did what she had done. She had tried suggesting the same to Spence, but he had given her such a look she didn't say it again. The lines between morality and immorality were clearly demarcated for him. She knew he would never shirk from his duty, no matter who was involved. It was one of the reasons why they had had to keep him in the dark about Emily's "murder" all those years ago. There wasn't one untruthful bone in the boy's body.  
"This way, Miss Knight"  
She heard Detective Riggs leading Monica towards the visitors' room where she was now sitting. Emily had given her a hint about interrogating Monica. JJ had her own theory too. If she tried to put the focus on Monica's family, suggesting that they might be involved, Monica probably wouldn't hesitate to shift the blame back on herself.  
Perhaps. It was worth a try.  
From next to her on the couch, Matt stood up on seeing Monica and Detective Riggs. JJ did too. She kept an eye out for Monica's micro-expressions.  
"Hey, Monica", Matt said, "Sorry we had to drag you all the way out here"  
She gave him a small smile, saying,  
"It's okay. How are Kristy and the kids?"  
JJ couldn't help but give her a small smile of her own, sympathizing with her. At the same moment, Detective Riggs got a call. He made a sudden movement which led to the bulk of his body bumping into Monica's shoulder. JJ stepped forth, seeing that Monica was about to stumble.  
"I'm fine", she said.  
Detective Riggs apologized. Monica told him it was okay, bracing herself with one hand on the doorframe. JJ had her eyes on those hands. The left hand came away from the doorframe as Monica walked in.  
And the other drifted away from her stomach.  
Monica's body language, and the way her hand reached to protect her stomach when she stumbled...  
 _'No, not her stomach. A little lower'_  
Her womb.  
JJ gaped at her in shock. Monica met her gaze and swallowed, her eyes conveying an unsaid apology.  
"JJ?", Matt nudged her.  
Tearing herself away from the moment, she sat down with them and let Matt take the lead. Across from her, Monica kept her eyes averted.

Spencer watched the questioning from the other side of the glass paneled window. Monica answered all of Matt's questions with a sincerity that sickened him. It was almost like she _believed_ the lies coming out of her mouth. And she didn't look his way once.  
 _'Probably to keep those lies flowing'_  
"Thank you", Matt said to her, "Can you give us a minute? We'll be right back"  
Monica nodded. Matt and JJ left her in there with Detective Riggs and joined them outside. JJ had to pull Spencer away from the window so Riggs and Monica wouldn't hear them.  
"What do you think?", Emily asked Matt.  
Tara and Luke joined them too. Matt folded his arms over his chest and said,  
"It doesn't seem like she was involved. I…"  
"Are you kidding me?", Spencer exclaimed, "She bats her eyes some and gives you a tale about doing soul searching in rural Britain and you _buy_ that?"  
"Reid…", Emily tried.  
Matt raised his eyebrows, saying,  
"I didn't say she was innocent. And frankly, it's not my call whether she is innocent or not. I'm not a judge, none of us are"  
Spencer went on,  
"I know she abducted Leslie, okay? I can tell that. And if you can't…"  
"Her story _sticks_ ", Matt interrupted him, "She has the stamps on her passport. You know that Garcia confirmed a Monica Knight was on those flights. You even went through all those hours of footage and…"  
"And I confirmed that she was not on the footage!"  
"That doesn't mean she wasn't on the flights. Reid, we have nothing to tie her to Leslie's abduction, okay? Just your word. There's that bartender who saw her at the bar Leslie was in, but I don't have to educate you on how unreliable eyewitness testimony can be"  
"And the bugs?", Spencer turned to them, "You're all forgetting that?"  
Emily said,  
"No one is forgetting anything. But we really don't have anything on her. And frankly, it is a little disturbing to me that you want your girlfriend to be sent to jail so badly"  
"That's what you think this is about?", he asked, exasperated, "You think this is about _my_ conscience?"  
JJ tried to intervene,  
"Spencer…"  
He didn't listen.  
"This is not about me or her", he said, "This is about what's right…"  
JJ tried again,  
"Guys?"  
Emily warned him,  
"We have nothing to prove it was her, okay? Nothing"  
"That has never stopped us from…"  
Detective Riggs stepped outside the room, answering a call. The BAU waited for him to move out of earshot. Emily told Spencer,  
"Even if some crazy DA does decide to prosecute her, based on the non-existent evidence we have, do you _really_ think we can take this to court? Her sister is Audrey Chatham, who is going to be the Attorney General of the United States some day. Monica makes one call to her and we have the best criminal defense lawyers in DC breathing down on our necks. The odds are all in her favor, Reid. There's nothing more for us to do"  
JJ touched him on the shoulder,  
"Spencer?"  
He ignored her and went on arguing with Emily, saying,  
"We took an _oath_ to…"  
JJ said,  
"Spence?"  
"What?!", he turned on her.  
Not even that angry expression of his could stop her from telling him. JJ said,  
 **"She's pregnant"**  
Emily made a faint noise of surprise. The others stared at each other, then at him. JJ gave in to the ghost of a smile, tugging at the corners of her mouth. The timing couldn't have been worse but…  
Her best friend, having a newborn child, something he had wanted for so long… _she was overjoyed._  
"I'm 99% sure", she said.  
Spencer kept gawking at her, his jaw unhinged. Emily clutched his arm, jostling him a bit, a smile creeping onto her own face.  
He turned to the window to look at Monica. She sat alone in the visitors' room, her hands held together on her lap. In a second, he bolted for the room like his life depended on it.  
Tara watched him go and said,  
"I'm not sure we did the right thing but, it feels like it"  
JJ asked Emily,  
"Are we going to tell him we found the container where Monica kept Leslie?"  
Emily turned towards the window. Inside the visitors' room, Spencer stood before his girlfriend. She rose on seeing him. Emily smiled, watching them stand before each other. Even when looking doomstruck as they did at the moment, to her eyes, it looked right. Them being together looked right.  
She answered JJ's question,  
"No. But I am going to tell Monica"  
Luke was peeking through the window as well. He spoke for all of them when he said,  
"Fine by me"  
JJ put an arm around Emily's shoulder and they exchanged a sad smile.

Inside the visitors' room, Monica was crying and pleading with Spencer. One glance, and they had both read what was on the other's mind.  
"I didn't know, I swear. If I had realized it sooner, I would never have endangered your ba… please forgive me"  
He let her cry, not making any movement to comfort her. She said,  
"I'll sign a confession. I have to own up to what I did"  
He said, his voice cold as steel,  
"You're willing to go to prison, while you're pregnant with my child?"  
"It's the right thing to do. And… if it's okay with you, I want to keep it"  
"Where will you raise it? In jail?"  
She raised her eyes to his face, looking like he had just struck her.  
"Catherine will", Monica said, "I haven't told anyone yet but, I know she and Elaine will be good to the baby"  
"It's my child"  
"You will have every right, of course"  
"And Veronica?"  
Monica wiped another tide of tears at the sound of her little girl's name.  
"I don't deserve her. If you're willing, I can ask Audrey to try and get her guardianship transferred to you"  
Spencer said, sounding utterly spiteful,  
"You have a plan for everything, don't you?"  
"…I'm sorry"  
His face showed a masterful control over a myriad of pain and emotions, as he said,  
"Well, _I_ am sorry to ruin your plan but you're not going to prison"  
"I have to"  
"There's no evidence against you. No DA in his right mind will prosecute you"  
Love and regret mingled in her voice, as she said,  
"You don't have to do this for me, Dr. Reid. It's not who you are"  
"I'm not doing it for you"  
She looked away, wiping her tears. Spencer's voice trembled with the pain of all he had suffered over the last two weeks. He said,  
"I'm doing it for me. I can't live without you… consequences be damned"  
That was all it took for Monica to crumble and for Spencer to take her into his arms. He hugged her tight enough to suffocate her, while she said against his shoulder,  
"I'm so sorry"  
He embraced her tighter, inhaling the smell of her hair, her skin, wanting to imprint his soul with hers. He held her like he was protecting her from everything, her own self, daring the entire universe to try and take her away from him.  
"I love you so much…", Monica whispered.  
"I love you too, Monica. But if you do this to me again, _ever again_ , I'll kill myself then you"  
She held on to him, nodding her head. Spencer buried his face in her hair, scolding her with his lips against her ear and kissing it, while his arms refused to let her go.

Matt shook his head at them from the other side of the window. Luke sniffled, making sure no one heard him. JJ whispered with a glint of a tear in her eye,  
"Our Boy Wonder is all grown up"  
Emily nodded, as the BAU watched Dr. Spencer Reid comfort the mother of his unborn child.

* * *

 _"Until we have seen someone's darkness, we don't really know who they are. Until we have forgiven someone's darkness, we don't really know what love is"_

 _– Marianne Williamson_


	48. Epilogue

" _I don't care, I love you anyhow. It is too late to turn you out of my heart. Part of you lives here"_  
 _\- Anne Sexton_

* * *

Hello there. I hope it wasn't too much trouble finding this spot. Pleased to meet you. Yeah, this part of the woods is thicker, more isolated. I prefer it this way.  
Well then, come along. You can keep your car here. Nobody ever comes this way.  
There _is_ a road, a path more like. That's what I use if I have to go into town. Or when my family visits.  
I do have a car. It's a truck. Let's get going. It's not much of a walk. Just watch what you step on.

Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourself comfortable. What can I get you? Water, tea, coffee?  
All right. I'll be just a minute. Oh, I forgot to show you the dogs. If I don't tell them you're friendly, they might attack you. Just come with me to the door for a second, let them see you walk.  
Allie, Bernard, Dante!  
Whoa, easy on the licks, children. Look who that is. We have a guest visiting us. Allie, down, girl. That's a friend, okay? No bothering them. You're lucky I have company or it was bath day for you, Bernard.  
All right, off you go.  
There. We can go back in now. Yeah, they are rescue dogs, all of them. Dante is half wolf and Allie is half coyote, actually. I don't have to worry about feeding them. They hunt. Bernard is more domesticated than the other two. He reminds me of my old dog Bubbly sometimes. Have a seat. I'll bring us some water.

Here you go. From the fresh stream, and purified. It might taste a bit earthy if you're not used to it.  
How's Hank, by the way? When he called me and said a journalist friend of his wanted an interview with me, I was surprised. Hank isn't one to ask for favours. You must be good friends, not that it's any of my business.  
Ah. College buddies. Makes sense. So then. Ask away. What would you like to know?

Yes. I said goodbye to human civilization in 2058. I have been living here ever since. It took me two weeks to make this cottage. Yes, I made it with some help from my sons and my daughter. I took two years of masonry and construction lessons from a friend, so I could make this myself. I don't like wooden cabins, and I love the English stone cottages from my childhood. So that's how I wanted my last ever home to be like.  
Do you want to see my organic garden? Come.

No, no. Lentils require the least amount of water. The potatoes are more of a treat cause I love them. My grandmother used to say I got that from my grandfather. He was Russian by birth.  
I was never a vegetarian, actually. I only eat meat when my family brings me some, or when I visit them. Hunting is cruel, no matter how you dress it. I understand hunting is necessary for people who don't have access to other food and who need that meat for survival. But for any other reasons, it's just cruel.  
The compost stinks to high heaven. You might want to cover your nose. No, it's more of a necessity. The toilet in the cottage is completely green. Recycled water, the waste goes into the compost, along with the leaves I rake and any other degradable waste that won't ruin the compost. That's enough about the compost, I suppose. I don't think your readers would be much enthralled by reading about an old woman's composting. I'll show you the solar panels, come on.

That's the green tour. You have already seen the drawing room. That's the hearth. Inside, this way, there's a kitchen, the toilet, and two bedrooms. One for me, one for when my grandchildren visit. If you like books, the bedrooms are walls to walls of books. They are quite old, some notebooks too. I use a Kindle now. As much as I hate it, it's much greener. Little sacrifices for the better good, right?  
Let me get you something to eat. No, no. It's no trouble. It would be unnatural to be sent away from an old woman's house without eating something. You like fruit jam?Sit tight. I'll be right back.

Here. Help yourself. Don't be shy.  
My daughter helped most with making the cottage environmentally sustainable. She's an engineer, specialises in green solutions. It's funny cause my sons are not that much into trees and environmental protection like I am. I birthed them and Veronica was adopted. She's more like me and her father than those three boys.  
The older two are twins. Spencer's a Chemistry professor, and George is an FBI profiler. Arthur is an artist. All my children turned out to be good people as far as I know. That's the most you can expect from them as parents, knowing you did your part.  
My daughter did help with the house but the reforestation I wanted to do on my own. She has her own life, you know. And besides, it was my dream, not hers. It's only right that I should have been the one to work on it.  
Took twenty years. It was patient and hard work, lots of planning.  
There was quite a bit of attention my work had drawn, some five years ago. Because of some article an experienced journalist wrote, _"The grandma from Virginia who resurrected an entire forest"_.  
It was amusing. I have a PhD in Botany, and I was a college professor for almost 40 years, but that article introduced me as _"Mrs. Reid, a widow in Virginia"_. Some things never change.  
Yes. There were a few organisations that did try to contact me about bringing back other forests. But I have fallen in love with this one. I wrote a book about reforestation and sent it to them as a present. This has been my home for years, and as much as I want to make the world a greener place, I can't leave behind this one. It was my childhood dream - to live as one with nature. My retirement plan had always been this, to go and live in a forest by myself. You could say I'm living my dream.  
My childhood? It was spent mostly in England and here, USA. I was the youngest among three sisters and two brothers. My parents were the nicest people you would ever meet. My grandparents were inspiring. My siblings always had my back. It was quite the life, growing up loved by so many people.

* * *

I see you keep looking from me to the handsome man adorning an entire wall. You can ask.  
I made all those photo frames too. Not that one in the centre, my grandson, Percy, made it for me when he was in second grade. Let's get a closer look, come.

This is the love of my life, the most incredible man I have ever known, my late husband - Dr. Spencer Reid. He was an FBI profiler and a polymath. That's a picture from before I knew him, receiving his first PhD. That's also an older one, from his training days at Quantico. Yes, he was quite young when he started.  
This one is from one of our first dates. He still looks 20 in this one, doesn't he? Oh, thank you. I wouldn't say I was that much of a looker. But he and I sure looked great together.  
This one is from Veronica's third birthday. That's all our friends and family. This gentleman right here, this is Hank's father, Derek Morgan. My husband was Hank's godfather. He and Derek were like brothers, worked in the FBI together for over a decade. That's my brother George. He was murdered by a serial killer in Texas, years ago. We named our son after my dear brother.  
This one is from the hospital, when the twins were born. My husband insisted on having his picture taken with both of them in his arms and our daughter looking over from his shoulder. He loved her so much.  
This one... that's a picture I took after he retired as an active duty agent in the FBI. He still worked with them in a consulting capacity but that was that. He had to retire because of early onset dementia. Yes.  
He wasn't even 50 when we were told. I still remember how devastated he was. We felt like time had turned against us, wanting to punish my darling love through no fault of his own.  
I was pregnant for a second time when he retired. The doctors said there was a high probability of his dementia progressing into Alzheimer's when he got older. So my husband did what he did best. He researched. He spent the rest of his life, trying to find a solution for slowing down dementia and Alzheimer's. Thankfully, his dementia never progressed into Alzheimer's.  
This picture is from our wedding day. As you can see, I was heavily pregnant. I had turned down his proposal once before, but when those doctors told us that my Dr. Reid had dementia, I couldn't just do nothing. I begged him to marry me. He finally relented and I wanted to get done with the wedding as soon as possible.  
I was seven months pregnant when we got married. What you can't see in this picture is the bruises on my face. Those were covered up by tons of makeup and Photoshop. No, not an accident.  
I was kidnapped on the morning of my wedding. I laugh now, but it was no laughing matter for us that day. Some guy Dr. Reid had sent to prison, his lover wanted to ruin our wedding day by torturing my groom and killing me. But the day was saved, thanks to my husband and his team, the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI.  
The attacker punched and hit me a bunch of times, that's all. There was nothing I could do. I'm a civilian. I was never trained to fight and outsmart such people. I just kept breathing until I was rescued.  
And this picture is from Arthur's sixth birthday. I remember my brother Max took the picture, because we all - me, my husband, my kids - we were all laughing in it and we looked like the happiest family on the planet. Honestly, I think we might have been that.

There were difficult times, of course. Children grow older, they become moodier. There were days when I felt like I was being pulled into six different directions, stretched to the point of it being physically painful. But I forged on. That's what you do when you love someone. Our children were wonderful though, when it came to their father's condition.  
There was this one time, one of his bad days. Dr. Reid woke up in the middle of the night and he pointed a gun at me. He didn't remember who I was. He thought I was the one who was stalking his old girlfriend. He said he would kill me to get to her if he had to.  
Hurt? No. Maybe a little. But I knew that wasn't his fault. He just didn't remember.  
I was trying to talk him down. I showed him the picture on our night stand from our honeymoon, but he wouldn't believe me. To my horror, the children had heard the commotion and they came bursting into our room. Arthur was only five. He hugged his Dad's legs before we could even stop him. Veronica, being the oldest, she tried to remind him who we were. The twins, they talked him down. _"Dad, it's us. You have dementia. It's okay. You just forgot who we are. It's totally cool. Just don't shoot Mom. Put the gun down"_.  
I had never been prouder of the kids more than I was that night.

Towards the end, my husband couldn't remember much. Thankfully, it never progressed into Alzheimer's. He had complete control over his body right until the end, just the way he had wanted. For the last seven days of his life, he couldn't recognise most of us. But the day he passed away, he took my hand while I was reading a book by his bed, and he thanked me for being his wife. He said, "I love you, Monica Knight". We talked for a while, only as much as his body allowed him to. He passed away that night in his sleep.

I have lived a very full life. I have lived to see all my dreams being fulfilled. But after he passed away, it made no sense for me to live in a world that would only keep reminding me he was no more.  
I'm all right. I'm okay. It's just... I still miss him.  
Here, keeping myself busy among the trees and books and solitude, it's all I can do to stop thinking of him. It's been twenty-two years since he passed away, but you can't get used to living without someone like him. He was the most amazing person you would ever meet. He was my friend, my lover, my partner, my husband.  
Everything I hold dear today is somehow connected to him, or reminds me of him. My family provides scholarships and fellowships in his name. They get together on his birthday every year, talking about how much they miss him. I stay here with all his books and his memories, listening to the music he loved, watching old videos and pictures of him.  
Oh, look at me. Blabbering about my personal life like an old fool. You had more questions about the forest? Let's hear them.

* * *

 _"...I love you, Monica"_  
 _Everyone "aww"d at the groom's wedding vows while the bride wiped her tears, smiling. She held the cuff of the groom's sleeve again, looking up into his eyes with the utmost adoration._  
 _"I with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me innocent or naïve, who has the courage to treat me like a woman*. I choose you, Spencer Reid", she smiled, "Because there's no one else in the world I would rather belong to, heart and soul. Come what may - killers, criminals, spies and villains - no one will ever take me away from you, darling, I promise"_  
 _The groom's tearful smile was equally heart-warming. The judge officiating their wedding soon announced,_  
 _"I now declare you, Spencer Reid and Monica Knight, to be lawfully married. You may kiss the bride"_  
 _Amidst hooting and cheering from their friends, the groom embraced his bride. He pulled her as close as her pregnant body would allow, and kissed her before he could even stop smiling. Their foreheads touching, having kissed her for the second time that day, Spencer said,_  
 _"Congratulations. You just married a 43-year old former FBI agent, with dementia and Asperger's"_  
 _Monica grinned, tweaking his nose,_  
 _"Nope. I married a genius profiler and scholar, the father to my children, who also happens to be the kindest and sexiest man alive"_  
 _At his bashful smile, she made him look back at her again, saying,_  
 _"But you, my love, just married a former spy, who is almost an eco-terrorist, who has more secrets than you have abs, who is heavily preggers, and who is still going to climb on top of you in the honeymoon suite tonight"_  
 _Spencer smiled,_  
 _"A liar and a weirdo. Not the most classic love story"_  
 _"My weirdo"_  
 _"And my liar", he hugged her tighter._

* * *

 _"I will live for love and the rest will take care of itself"_  
 _\- Marina Keegan_

* * *

 _A/N:_ *The quote is by Anaïs Nin.  
Thank you for your response to this story. I'm very grateful. Thank you so much.


End file.
